1 


A 


■^  -^ate  stamped  below. 


THE    SENSES 


AND 


THE    INTELLECT 


BY 


ALEXANDER    BAIN,    LL.D. 

EMERITUS  PROFESSOR  OF   LOGIC   IN   THE   UNIVERSITY   OF  ABERDEEN 


FOURTH  EDITION 


NEW     YORK 
D.    A PPL ETON    AND     COMPANY 

1902 


^cb.  ieo2, 


3 


c 


PltEFACE. 


ri'lHE  ol)ject  of  this  treatise  is  to  give  a  full  ai 
-^      systematic  account  of  two  principal  divisions 


and 
systematic  account  of  two  principal  divisions  of 
the  science  of  Mind — the  Senses  and  the  Intellect. 
The  repiaining  two  divisions,  comprising  the  Emotions 
and  the  Will,  will  be  the  subject  of  a  future  treatise. 

While  endeavouring  to  present  in  a  methodical 
form  all  the  important  facts  and  doctrines  bearing 
upon  mind,  considered  as  a  branch  of  science,  I  have 
seen  reason  to  adopt  some  new  views,  and  to  depart, 
in  a  few  instances,  from  the  most  usual  arrangement 
of  the  topics. 

Conceiving  that  the  time  has  now  come  Avhen 
many  of  the  striking  discoveries  of  Physiologists 
relative  to  the  nervous  system  should  find  a  recog- 
nized place  in  the  Science  of  Mind,  I  have  devoted 
a  separate  chapter  to  the  Physiology  of  the  Brain 
and  Nerves. 

In  treating  of  the  Senses,  besides  recognizing  the 
so-called  muscular  sense  as  distinct  from  the  five 
senses,  I  have  thought  proper  to  assign  to  Movement 
and  the  feelings  of  Movement  a  position  preceding 
the  Sensations  of  the  senses ;  and  have  endeavoured 
to  prove  that  the  exercise  of  active  energy,  origi- 
nating in  purely  internal  impulses,  independent  of 
the  stinuilus  produced  by  outward  impressions,  is  a 
primary  fi\ct  of  our  constitution. 

Among  the  Senses  have  been  here  enrolled  and 


IV  •  PEEFACE. 

described  with  some  degree  of  minuteness,  the  feehngs 
connected  with  the  various  processes  of  organic  Kfe, — 
Digestion,  Respiration,  etc. — which  make  up  so  large 
a  part  of  individual  happiness  and  misery. 

A  systematic  plan  has  been  introduced  into  the 
description  of  the  conscious  states  in  general,  so  as 
to  enable  them  to  be  compared  and  classified  with 
more  precision  than  heretofore.  However  imperfect 
may  be  the  first  attemi)t  to  construct  a  Natural 
History  of  the  Feelings,  upon  the  basis  of  a  uniform 
descriptive  method,  the  subject  of  Mind  cannot  attain 
a  high  scientific  character  until  some  progress  has 
been  made  towards  the  accomplishment  of  this  object. 

In  the  department  of  the  Senses,  the  Instincts,  or 
primitive  endowments  of  our  mental  constitution,  are 
fully  considered ;  and  in  endeavouring  to  arrive  at  the 
original  foundation,  or  first  rudiments,  of  Volition, 
a  theory  of  this  portion  of  the  mind  has  been  sug- 
gested. 

In  treating  of  the  Intellect,  the  subdivision  into 
feculties  is  abandoned.  The  exposition  proceeds 
entirely  on  the  Laws  of  Association,  which  are  ex- 
emplified with  minute  detail,  and  followed  out  into 
a  variety  of  applications. 

London,  June,  1855. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 

^pms  edition  has  lieen  thoroughly  revised,  and  in 
-^  many  places  re-written.  Although  I  have  not 
seen  reason  to  change  any  of  my  leading  views  on 
the  subject  of  Mind,  I  hope  I  may  have  succeeded 
in  improving  the  statement  and  exposition  of  them. 

It  is  in  the  first  part  of  the  work  where  most 
alteration  has  been  made.  The  explanations  of  the 
Nervous  svstem  and  the  Senses  have  been  amended 
according  to  the  best  recent  authorities  on  Physi- 
ology. The  Definition  of  Mind  has  been  somewhat 
differently  exjDressed.  The  systematic  plan  of  de- 
scribing the  Feelings  has  been  modified,  and  all  the 
detailed  descriptions  re-cast.  An  attempt  has  been 
made  to  generalize  the  Physical  accompaniments  of 
Pleasure  and  Pain.  The  Instinctive  foundations  of 
Volition  are  stated  more  explicitly. 

In  the  second  part,  the  Introduction  to  the  Intel- 
lect has  been  revised,  with  a  view  to  rendering  as 
precise  as  possible  the  natural  subdivisions  of  this 
portion  of  the  mind.  The  doctrine  referring  to  the 
physical  seat  of  revived  impressions  has  been  dis- 
cussed anew,  and  applied  to  clear  u^j  the  difficulties 
attending  the  explanation  of  Sympathy.  The  associ- 
ating principle  of  Contrast  has,  on  further  considera- 
tion, been  treated  as  the  reproductive  aspect  of 
Discrimination,  or  Relativity. 

The  origin  of  our  notions  of  Space  and  Time  has 
been  more  minutely  traced ;  and  some  additions 
have  been  made  to  the  handling  of  the  great  Meta- 
physical problem,  relating  to  the  External  World. 

Aberdeen,  February,  1864. 


ll 


PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 

TN  this  third  edition,  the  work  has  again  been  suli- 
^  jected  to  a  thorough  revision,  involving  numerous 
amendments  both  in  matter  and  in  style. 

The  sketch  of  the  ]Servous  System,  and  the 
Physiological  references  generally,  have  been  com- 
23ared  with  the  statements  given  in  the  newest  works. 
The  Reflex  Actions,  illustrating  the  Will,  by  contrast 
and  by  resemblance,  are  more  fully  and  systematically 
discussed. 

In  the  Intellect,  the  fundamental  conditions,  both 
of  Retentiveness  and  of  Similarity,  have  been  set 
forth  with  greater  precision ;  whereby  clearness  is 
gained  in  following  out  the  details  of  those  great 
leading  functions. 

The  value  of  the  work  is  greatly  enhanced  by  an 
account  of  the  Psychology  of  Ai^stotle,  which  has 
been  contributed  bv  Mr.  Grote.  The  chief  signi- 
ficance  of  Aristotle's  views,  at  the  present  day,  lies 
in  his  recognizing,  in  an  almost  unqualified  manner, 
the  doul)le-sidedness  of  the  mental  states. 

Aberdeen,  September,  1868. 


PREFACE  TO  THbl  FOURTH  EDITION. 

A  FTER  a  considerable  interval  of  time,  in  the 
^  course  of  which  psychological  investigation  and 
discussion,  both  in  Europe  and  in  America,  have  been 
more  actively  carried  on  than  during  any  former 
period  of  philosojjhical  history,  I  now,  for  the  last 
time,  re-issue  this  work,  with  such  additions,  modifi- 
cations and  emendations  as  have  commended  them- 
selves to  my  mind.  I  have  endeavoured  to  take  full 
advantage  of  the  numerous  suggestions  in  contem- 
porary philosophical  literature,  and,  while  adhering 
to  the  main  points  of  doctrine,  and  the  general  plan  of 
arrangement,  I  have  introduced  improved  forms  of 
statement,  and  corrected  what  I  deemed  either  in- 
accurate or  imperfect  in  the  expression. 

In  regard  to  the  physiological  portions,  the 
chapter  on  the  Nervous  System  has  been  entirely 
re-written.  This  task  has  been  executed  by  Dr. 
W.  Leslie  Mackenzie,  Medical  Officer  of  Health  for 
the  counties  of  Kirkcudbright  and  Wigton,  who 
has  spared  no  pains  to  embody  the  results  of  the 
latest  authorities.  I  have  profited  by  his  assistance, 
also,  in  im})roving  the  physiology  of  the  Senses.  My 
conviction  of  the  propriety  of  bringing  these  topics 
before  the  student,  notwithstanding  the  adverse 
opinion  of  many,  has  been  strengthened  rather  than 
otherwise.  It  is  not  merely  that  the  definitions  and 
the  doctrines  of  physiology  have  a  direct  ap})lica- 
tion,  and  that  their  absence  would  make  psychology 
poorei'  in  its  own  province, — it  is,  further,  that  the 
expression  of  mental  states  is,  in  many  ways,  aided 


Vlll  PEEFACE. 


by  reference  to  their  physical  adjuncts.  Even  when 
such  adjuncts  are  so  imperfectly  known  as  to  have 
only  a  hypothetical  rendering,  the  mention  of  them 
is  still  valuable  in  improving  our  scanty  resources  of 
subjective  delineation.  Perhaps  it  may  be  said  that 
the  student  should  refer  to  works  of  Anatomy  and 
Physiology  for  this  special  instruction, — which  is 
quite  true.  At  the  same  time,  the  including  of 
a  suitable  physiological  selection  in  a  treatise  of 
psychology  proper  has  high  expository  value. 

It  is  now  generally  recognized  that  systematic 
Psychology  should  be  disburdened  of  Metaphysics — 
that  is,  the  problem  of  knowing  and  being, — however 
closely  they  may  be  connected.  To  analyze  Subject 
and  Object  is  a  strictly  psychological  task :  the 
nature  of  our  Perception  of  a  material  world  is 
something  different  and  apart.  Likewise,  what  is 
now  termed  Epistemology  has  psychological  relation- 
ships, but  is  pursued  into  issues  of  a  specific  char- 
acter, lying  outside  pm^e  psychology. 

The  chapter  on  Instinct,  which  contains  the  fun- 
damentals of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  together  with  their 
physical  embodiment  and  expression,  and  the  germ 
of  Volition,  has  been  so  far  re-cast  as  to  make  more 
explicit  the  distinction  between  the  Physical  and 
the  Mental,  while  assigning  due  force  to  each. 

The  supposed  origination  of  our  mental  products, 
known  to  us  only  in  their  maturity,  has  entered 
largely  into  psychological  inquiiy.  Whether  certain 
fundamental  conceptions— such  as  Space,  Time, 
Cause,  the  Moral  Sense,  the  Ego  or  Personality, — 
are  instinctive,  or  grow  out  of  experience  and  edu- 


PREFACE.  IX 


cation,  has  long  been  the  battle-ground  of  the 
lihilosophy  of  mind.  The  controversy  may  have  a 
somewhat  factitious  importance  ;  at  all  events,  it  is 
regarded  with  more  than  merely  speculative  curiosit} . 
The  argumentative  treatment,  however,  has  assumed 
a  new  aspect  from  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  taken 
in  the  guarded  form  of  the  hereditary  transmission 
of  foregone  aptitudes  or  acquirements.  Instead  of 
Kant's  contention  that  the  notion  of  Space,  as  a 
'  form  of  thought,'  is  prior  to  any  experience  on  the 
part  of  each  individual,  the  (juestion  now  is,  whether 
or  not  we  possess  at  birth  a  large  contribution  to- 
wards the  full  realizing  of  the  three  dimensions  of 
the  extended  world.  Such  a  mode  of  looking  at 
the  problem  changes  the  whole  character  of  the 
research  into  origins  ;  depriving  us  of  the  right  to 
define  the  absolute  commencement  of  any  of  the 
great  fundamental  notions,  and  leaving  us  merely  to 
watch  their  accessions  of  growth  within  the  s^jhere 
of  our  observation,  and  to  reason  by  analogy  as  to 
their  probable  course  or  manner  of  growth  before 
entering  that  sphere.  It  may,  however,  be  still 
argued,  without  fear  of  rejoinder,  that  experience  or 
acquisition  is  the  remote  genesis  of  what  transcends 
our  available  sources  of  knowledge.  The  (jualifica- 
tions  introduced  in  the  present  edition  of  this  work, 
having  reference  to  experience  as  opposed  to  instinct, 
have  taken  shape  in  accordance  with  the  leading- 
hypothesis  above  sketched. 

The  plan  and  object  of  the  present  work,  as  well 
as  of  its  continuation  The  Emotions  (uid  Ihc  Will, 
having  been  conceived  more  exclusively  with  a  view 


X.  PREFACE. 

to  practical  results,  I  have  seen  no  ground  for  ma- 
terially altering  the  expository  order  and  the  propor- 
tions, in  the  laving-  out  of  the  details. 

The  Retentive  power  of  the  ]\Iind,  which  occuj^ies 
the  largest  division  of  the  Intellectual  Powders,  has 
received  some  additions,  with  a  view  to  elucidate 
still  further  the  more  complex  bearings  of  the  Re- 
cuperative process. 

I  recognize,  in  the  broadest  sense,  the  possibility 
of  advancing  psychological  doctrines  by  means  of 
well-contrived  experiments.  The  researches  usually 
called  psycho-ijhysical  have  already  borne  some 
fruits,  and  hold  out  still  greater  expectations  for  the 
future.  They  can,  at  best,  cover  but  a  small  portion 
of  the  wide  domain  of  psychological  research ;  but, 
if  pursued  with  a  clear  recognition  of  introspective 
concurrence,  they  may  accelerate  the  pace  of  psycho- 
logical investigation,  more  especially  on  the  side  of 
practical  usefulness. 

The  account  of  the  Psychology  of  Aristotle,  con- 
tributed by  Grote  to  the  previous  edition,  having 
been  embodied  in  his  own  })ostliumous  work  on 
Aristotle,  is  here  omitted. 

Subsequently  to  the  pul)lication  of  the  former 
edition,  I  appended  a  Postscript,  containing  a  minute 
and  exhaustive  criticism  of  the  psychological  parts  of 
Darwin  on  Expression.  This  has  l^een  retained  in 
the  present  edition.  It  serves  the  purpose  of  ex- 
panding the  treatment  in  the  text,  and  also  of  illus- 
trating at  length  the  alternative  positions  as  to  the 
respective  priority  of  Emotion  and  Volition  in  the 
order  of  development. 

Aberdeen,  Aj>r//,   189-i. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

CHAPTER    I. 
DEFINITION  AND  DIVISIONS  OF  MIND. 

PAGE 

1.  Mind  opposed  to  the  Extended           ...         ...         ...         ..          ...  1 

e  2.  Mind  lias  three  properties, — Feeling,  Volition,  Thought 2 

3.  Elucidation  of  these  properties           ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

4.  Classifications  of  Mind. — Understanding  and  Will ;  Intellectual 

Powers  and  Active  Powers ;  Brown's  di^^sion  ;  Hamilton's. 
Maimer  of  expressing  the  mutual  solidarity  of  the  fundamental 
attributes  of  Mind.  Priority  of  the  powers  in  the  order  of  de- 
pendence.    Fundamental  truths  of  Psychology         ...         ...  6 

5.  Plan  of  the  present  volume      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ..  8 


CHAPTER'  II 


THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

1.  Connexion  of  mental  processes  with  bodily  organs  ..  ...  9 

2.  Proofs  that  the  Brain  is  the  principal  organ  of  Mind  ...  ...  ih. 

Connexion  of  size  of  Brain  with  mental  energy      ...  ...  ...  ih. 

STRUCTURE  OF  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 
General  View  of  the  Nervous  System. 

Nervous  System  divided  into  two  parts, —a  Central  part  and  an 

Internuncial  part  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  H 

The  Central  part  the  Ccrc6ro-<S//ma^  ^.iv's     ...         ...         ...         ..  ib. 

The  Internuncial  part  a  sj-stem  of  nerve  cords       ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Diagram  of  Cerebro-Spinal  and  Sympathetic  Nerves        ...         ...  12 

Grey  and  White  Nerve  Matter. 
Nerve  matter  consists  of  nerve  cells  or  cm-puscles  and  nerve  fibres ...  13 

Nerve  Cells,  Nerve  Corpuscles  or  Ganglionic  Cells. 

« 

Nerve  cells.     Variations  in  form.     Difference  in  size       ...         ...  ib. 


Xll  CONTENTS, 


The  Cerebrum. 

The  great  Fissures  ..." 

The  Cerebral  Lobes  and  Convolutions  ... 

The  Cerebral  Nerves 

Divisions  of  the  Cerebral  Grey  Matter 

The  Cerebral  Cortex. — Its  microscopic  structure 


PAGE 


Nerve  Fibres. 

MecluUated  nerve  fibres    ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...           16 

Non-meclidlated  nerve  fibres       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...           17 

Nerves. 

Nerve  cords  or  nerves       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...           ib. 

Nerve  ganglia       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...           19 

Parts  of  the  Cerebro- Spinal  Axis       ...         ...         ...         ...  ...          ib. 

The  Spinal  Cord. 

A  column  of  Grey  Matter  embedded  in  a  column  of  White  ..           20 

Microscopic  constituents  of  the  Cord             ...         ...         ...  ...           21 

The  Spinal  Nerves         22 

»  Functional  Tracts  of  the  spinal  white  matter         ...         ...  ...          ib. 

The  Medulla  Oblongata. 

Continued  up  from  the  Spinal  Cord  ...         ...         ...         ...  ...           24 

Constituent  nerve  fibres            ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...           25 

Collection  of  centres  or  special  masses  of  grey  matter      ...  ...           ib. 

The  Pons  Varolii. 

Like  the  I\Iedulla  a  grand  crossing  and    a   collection   of  grey 

centres          ...         ...          ...         ...          ....        ...         ...  ...           26 

The  Cerebellum. 

A   complicated   mass   of  grey  and   white   matter :  divided  into 

hemispheres            ...         ...          ...         ...         ...         ...  ...           ib. 

Microscopic  Structure  of  Cerebelliim. 

Grey  Matter.     White  Matter 28 

«    Nervous  System  growing  in  complexity        ...         ...         ...  ...           29 


30 
31 
32 
34 
35 


Functions  of  the  Nervous  System. 
General  Statement        ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  37 

Functions  of  Grey  Matter. 
Nerve  cells  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  38 

Functions  of  Nerve  Fibres. 
Summary  of  detailed  functions  ...  ..,         ...         ...         ...  40 

Functions  of  the  Spinal  Cord  and  Medulla  Oblongata. 
A  reflex  mechanism;  an  executive  centre  for  voluntary  actions ;  a 

conducting  path  for  nerve  impulses,  ingoing  and  outgoing  43 


CONTENTS.  •  Xlll 

PAGE 

Functions  of  the  Middle  Brain  and  C'erebeJhim. 
Experimental    means   or  methods  of  determining  these    func- 
tions    44 

Inferences  from  cases  of  disorder       ...  ...         ...         ...         ...  45 

Corpora  Quadrigcmina   ...  ..         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  47 

Corpora  Striata  and  Optic  Thalami     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  48 

Cerebellum  ...         ...         ...         ...         .-.         ■  ..         •■■  ib. 

Functions  of  the  Cerebral  Coi'tex. 

Doctrine  of  Localization  ..  ...         ...         ...         ...  ...  50 

Experimental  evidence  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

General  Results. 

Motor  Areas  of  the  Cortex.     Sensory  Areas.     Unassigned  Areas  52 

Synthetic  Correlation. 

Fimctiomil  Unity  of  the  Nervous  System. 
Every  part  of  the  Nervous  System  in  relation  with  every  other. 
The  whole  system  affects  the  nutrition  of  the  body.     The 
concomitant  of  ]\Iiud         ...         ...         ...         ...         ..  ...  53 


MOVEMENT,  SENSE,  AND  INSTINCT. 

»  Reasons  for  including  Appetites  and  Instincts  in  the  same  depart- 
ment with  the  Senses  57 


CHAPTEE    I. 

SPONTAXEOUS  ACTIVITY  AND  THE  FEELINGS  OF 

MOVEMENT. 

1.  Feelings  connected  with  Movement,  a  distinct  class         ...         ...  59 

Their  consideration  to  precede  the  Senses   ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

The  Muscular  System. 

2.  Muscular  Tissue ib- 

3.  Structure  of  Cross- Striated  or  Skeletal  Muscles      60 

4.  Fibres — their  Figure  and  Measurement        ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

5.  Nerves  of  Volmitary  Muscles   ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         .  •  •  61 

Proofs  of  Spontaneous  Activity. 

6.  Movements  anterior  to,  and  independent  of,  Sensation 62 

Proofs  that  there  are  such  movements  ...         ...         ...         ...  ib- 

(1)  Tonicity  of  the  muscles 

(2)  Permanent  closure  of  the  sphincter  muscles 


ib. 
ib. 


(3)  Activity  maintained  by  mvoluntary  muscles       63 


XIV  CONTENTS, 

PAGE 

(4)  Act  of  wakening  from  sleep  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  63 

(5)  Early  movements  of  infancy            ...         ...         ...         ...  65 

(6)  Activity  under  excitement     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  67 

(7)  The  active  temperament       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  68 

(8)  Growth  of  Volition      ...         ...          ...         ...          ..           ...  ih. 

Regions  of  Spontaneous  Activity. 

c    7.  The  muscles  act  in  groups,  or  systems          ...         ...          ...          ...  69 

Locomotive  apparatus      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Vocal  organs           ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  70 

IMovements  of  the  face,  tongue,  and  jaw          ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Special  aptitudes  of  animals       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Replies  to  objections     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  71 

What  is  exactly  contended  for           ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  72 

The  Muscular  Peelings. 

6    8.  The  Natural  History  of  the  Feelings,  a  part  of  the  Science  of 

Mind.     Method  and  Order  of  description          ...       •  ...         ...  ib. 

Classifying  and  describing  the  Feelings. 

The  Natural  History  Sciences  as  an  example  of  the  method  to  ■ 

be  followed  .. .         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  73 

Intellectual  States. 
•        Primary  intellectual  characters — Discrimination    and   Remem- 
brance          ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  76 

A  scale  of  Degree  for  the  Feelings  strictly  so  called           ...          ...  77 

9.  Classification  of  Feelings  of  Movement         ...         ...         ...         ...  78 

I.  Feelings  of  Muscular  Exercise. 

10.  Feeling  of  Muscular  Exercise  generally       ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

11.  Physical  side       ...         ...         ...         ..           ...         ...         ...         ..  79 

12.  Mental  side         81 

13.  Examples  of  the  Dead  Strain             86 

14.  Muscular  tension  with  Movement      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  87 

15.  Slow  Movements             ...          ...         ..           ...           ..                     ...  ih. 

16.  Movements  gradually  increasing  or  diminishing    ...         ...         ...  89 

17.  Quick  Movements          ib. 

18.  Passive  Movements        ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  91 

II.  Perceptions  grounded  in  the  Muscular  Feelings. 

19.  Discrimination  of  degrees  and  modes  of  muscular  exertion          ...  92 

20.  Consciousness  of  Exertion  or  expended  force — sense  of  Resistance, 

force,  inertia            ...         ...         ...          ...         ...         ...         ...  93 

21.  Examples  of  the  feeling  of  resistance.     Momentum.     Weight  ...  94 

22.  Consciousness  of  the  Continuance  of  a  muscular  exertion.    Esti- 

mate of  Time.     Means  of  estimating  Extension        ...         ...  96 

28.  Consciousness  of  the  degree  of  Velocity  of  movements     ...         ...  97 

Consciousness  of  the  state  of  contraction  of  a  muscle.    Note      ...  99 
Sir  W.  Hamilton's  distinction  between  the  locomotive  faculty 

and  the  muscular  sense.     Note  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  100 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


CHAPTEK  II. 
SENSATION. 

PAGE 

Sensations  of  the  five  Senses  ...         ...         ..  ...         ...         ...         101 

>  ^roTmnni-i  nr  prpnpra.1  j^PiisibJIity  102 

,      Propriety  of  constituting  the  feelings  of  Organic  Life  into  a  class 

of  sensations  ...  ...         ...  ...         ...         ...         ...         103 

Emotional  and  Intellectual  Senses  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  lb. 

Preliminary  Bi  marks  vpon  Sensation  in  general. 

(1)  Sensations  of   every-day  life  no  longer  typify  their  original 
character.      Distinction   between   them   and   the   thought- 
processes      ...         ...         ...         ...  ...         ...  ...         ...         104 

♦    (2)  Sensation  conditioned  by  the  law  of  iic7«^m<?/  ...         ...         105 

(3)  Sensations   vary   in   Degree.      Law  connecting   strength   of 

Stimulus  with  conscious  intensity         ...         ...         ...         ...  lb. 

The  treatment  of  Sensation  anticipates  processes  strictly  Intel- 
lectual           106 

General  or  Common  Sensibility. 

Different  meanings  of  General  or  Common  sensation       ...         ...         107 


Sensations  of  Organic  Life. 

•     1.  Classification  according  to  locality,  or  seat  .. .         ...         ...         ...  108 

Organic  Muscular  Feelinijs. 

2.  Organic    pains   of    muscle, — cuts,    lacerations,   injuries   of    the 

tissue.     Bodily  Origin  and  Manifestations  109 

3.  Blental   characters : — Acute  pains   in   general   typified,  and  de- 

scribed ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  Ill 

4.  Cramp   or   spasm,    its   physical   nature   and  mental   character- 

istics     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...         ...         ...  114 

5.  Over-fatigue  and  ordinary  fatigue      ...         ...         ...         ...  115 

6.  Tendons,  Ligaments,  Joints    ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  116 

Sensations  o/  the  Alimentary  Canal. 

7.  Objects  of  the  Sense  : — Materials  of  food      117 

8.  General  view  of  the  Organs  of  digestion       119 

9.  Summary  of  the  Physiology  of  digestion      120 

10.  Alimentary  Feelings  :  taking  of  food  and  healthy  digestion        ...  123 

11.  Hunger     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ..         ...         ...         ...  124 

12.  Nausea  and  Disgust      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  126 

13.  Feelings  of  deranged  digestive  organs  127 

Feelings  of  Respiration. 

14.  Process  of  Eespiration ..  129 

15.  Feelings  of  pure  air  : — Freshness  ;  feelings  of  Eelief         131 

16.  Feelings  of  insufficient  and  impure  air : — Suffocation       132 


XVI  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


Circulation  and  Nutrition. 

17.  Thirst;  Starvation;  pleasures  of  pure  animal  existence  ...         ...  133 

Heat  a/iid  Cold. 

18.  Physical  effects  of  heat  and  cold.     Sensation  of  Cold        ...         ...  134 

19.  Sensation  of  Heat.     Marked  illustration  of  the  law  of  Relativity  136 

Sensations  of  Nerve. 

20.  The  nerve  substance  in  itself  has  characteristic  sensibilities       ...  137 

21.  Nervous  fatigue :  Depression  of  tone             ...          ...         ...         ...  138 

22.  Healthy  and.  Fresh   Condition  of  tlie  Nerve   Tissue.     General  ex- 

hilaration of  mental  tone.     Influence  of  stimulating  drugs  139 
State  of  Drowsiness. 

23.  As  an  adjunct  of  sleep,  the  state  is  of  the  nature  of  voluminous 

pleasure        ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ..^ ^:..  141 

Feverish  ness. 

24.  The  exaggerated  form  of  so-called  excitement        ...         ...         ...  142 

Feelin-is  of  Electrical  States. 

25.  Electric  and  Voltaic  shocks — Faraday's  ^lagneto-Electric   cur- 

rents             ...          ...           ..          ...         ...          ...          ...          ...  143 

26.  Electrical  state  of  the  Atmosphere     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  144 

Concluding  Observations. 

27.  Summary  view  of  the  influence  of  organic  conditions  in  daily 

life ib. 

■    Sense  of  Taste. 

1.  Bodies  acting  on  the  sense  of  Taste   ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  146 

2.  Organ  of  Taste  ; — description  of  the  Tongue            ...         ...         ...  148 

3.  Local  distribution  of  the  sensibility  of  the  tongue             150 

4.  Mode  of  action  in  taste             ...          ...           ..         ...         ...  151 

5.  Sensations  of  Taste  ;  complex  sensibility  of  the  tongue    ...         ...  152 

6.  Order  of  Classification  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  153 

7.  Relishes    ..           ib. 

8.  Disgusts 154 

9.  Sweet  tastes  : — description  of  feeling  of  Sweetness            ib. 

10.  Bitter  tastes         155 

11.  Saline  tastes        156 

12.  Alkaline  tastes ib. 

13.  Sour,  or  acid  tastes       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

14.  Astringent  tastes           ...         157 

15.  Fierj'  tastes         ib. 

16.  Intellectual  aspect  of  tastes     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Sense  of  Smedl. 

1.  Objects  of  Smell 158 

2.  Production  of  odours     ...         ...         ...          ...         ...         ...         ...  160 

3.  Diffusion  of  odours        161 

4.  Organ  of  Smell : — description  of  the  Nose    ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 


CONTENTS. 


XVll 


PAGE 

5.  Action  of  odours — the  presence  of  oxygen  necessary  to  smell      . . .  163 

6.  Sensations  of  smell : — their  classification     ...         ...         ...         ...  164 

7.  Fresh  odours        165 

8.  Close  or  suffocating  odours      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  166 

9.  Nauseous  odours             ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

10.  Sweet  or  fragrant  odours : — sensation  of  sweetness           ...         ...  167 

11.  Bad  odours          ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

12.  Pungent  odours              ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  168 

13.  Ethereal  odours 169 

14.  Appetizing  odours          ...         ...         ...         ...         ..          ...         ...  ib. 

15.  Flavour    ...         170 

16.  Uses  of  Smell      171 

-     Sense  of  Touch. 

p  1.  Position  assigned  to  Touch  by  physiologists.  Touch  an  intel- 
lectual sense            ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

2.  Objects  of  Touch            173 

I     3.  Organ  of  Touch  :— the  Skin     174 

4.  Functions  and  %ital  properties  of  the  skin   ...         ...         ...         ...  178 

«    5.  Sensations: — (I.)  Emotional  Sensations — Soft  Touch       ...         ...  181 

6.  Pungent  and  painful  sensations  of  touch      ...          ...         ...         ...  182 

7.  Other  painful  sensations  of  the  skin — Tickling.    Exception  to  the 

law  of  stimulus.     Chafiug  of  the  skin    ...         ...         ...         ...  183 

8.  (II.)  Sensations  of  Temperature  (Intellectual)       ...         185 

»  9.  (III.)  The  Intellectual  Sensations  of  Touch  proper  : — (1)  Im- 
pressions of  distinguishable  Points — Weber's  observations  ...  187 

10.  (2)  Sensations  of  Pressure        ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  191 

11.  (rV.)  Sensations  of   Touch   involving  Musciilar  perceptions  : — 

Weight,  Pressure,  Resistance  ;  Elasticity ;  Roughness,  and 

Smoothness  ;  increase  of  sensibility  by  movement     ...         ...  192 

„  12.  Qualities  of  Extension,  Size,  Form.  Movement  by  itself  inadequate 
to  give  the  Notion  of  Extended  Matter,  or  of  Space.  How 
the  sense  of  Touch  contributes  to  this  perception.  Elements 
of  the  contrast  between  the  Successive  and  the  Co-existing. 

Lineal  extent ;  superficial  extent ;  solid  extent          ...         ...  196 

*    13.  Distance,  Direction,  Situation,  Form           ...         ...         ...         ...  201 

14.  Accompaniment  of  activity  in  the  senses  generally            ...         ...  203 

15.  Touch  concerned  in  handicraft  operations  ...         ...         ...         ...  204 

16.  How  far  Touch  can  be  a  substitute  for  sight           ..          ...         ...  ib. 

17.  Subjective  feelings  of  Touch ib. 

.     Sense  of  Heaeing. 

1.  Objects  of  Hearing        205 

2.  The  Ear ib. 

3.  Action  of  the  parts  of  the  ear  in  the  sensation  of  sound   ...         ...  209 

4.  Sensations  of  Sound  ;  their  classification     ...         ...         ...         ...  213 

b 


XVlll  CONTENTS, 

PARE 

5.  Sweetness            ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  213 

6.  Intensity  or  Loudness :  Suddenness              ...         ...          ...         ...  215 

7.  Volume  or  Quantity       216 

8.  Pitch  or  Tune      ih- 

9.  Waxing  and  waning  of  sound 217 

10.  Complexity :  Discord  and  Harmony  . .          ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

11.  Timbre      218 

12.  Articulate  sounds.     Heknlioltz's  explanation  of  the  vowel  sounds  ih. 

13.  Distance 220 

14.  Direction H- 

15.  Duration  of  an  impression  of  sound 222 

»    16.  Subjective  sensations  of  sound            ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Sense  of  Sight. 

1.  Objects  of  Sight ib. 

«   2.  The  Eye 224 

3.  Conditions  of  perfect  \-ision     ...           237 

'  4.  Adaptation  of  the  eye  to  vision  at  different  distances        ...         ...  240 

5.  Of  single  vision  with  two  eyes.     Binocular  Vision  : — Wheatstone's 

experiments            ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  241 

6.  Erect  vision  from  inverted  images     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  246 

*     7.  Sensations  of  Sight        ib. 

8.  Sensation  of  mere  Light          247 

.    9.  Colour       248 

10.  Artificial  lights 250 

11.  Lustre. — Explanation  of  the  cause  of  lustre           ...         ...         ...  ib. 

12.  Complex  sensations   of  sight.      Optical    and    Muscular    effects 

combined       ...          ...         ...          ...          ...         ...         ...         ...  251 

»    13.  Visible   Movements  : — pleasures    of   Muscular  movement ;   per- 
manent imagery  of  the  intellect             ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

,    14.  Visible    Form: — the   distinction    between   Succession,   and  the 

simultaneous,  or  Co-existence  in  Space             254 

15.  Apparent   size  ; — exceeding   delicacy  of   our    discrimination    of 

retinal  magnitude       ..         ...         ...         ...         ■  •  ■         • .  •         •  • .  257 

»     16.  Distance,  or  varying  remoteness         258 

17.  Visible   Movements  and   Visible  Forms  in  three  dimensions — 

Volume          ib- 

18.  Extent  of  the  intellectual  imagery  derived  through  the  eye       ...  259 


CHAPTEK    III. 

THE  APPETITES. 

•      1.  Appetite,  a  species  of  Volition.   Enumeration  of  Appetites         ...         260 
2.  Sleep         i^- 


CONTENTS. 


XIX 


3.  Exercise  and  Repose 

4.  Thirst  and  Hunger 

5.  Appetite  of  the  Sexes     ... 

6.  Accustomed  Routine  of  life 

7.  Appetite  liable  to  give  false  indications 


P.\GE 

261 
262 
263 
264 

ih. 


CHAPTEK    IV. 


THE  INSTINCTS. 

•     1.  Definition  of  Instinct 

2.  Enumeration  of  instinctive  or  primitive  arrangements     ... 

^  The  Reflex  Actions. 

3.  The   Reflex,  Automatic    or   Involuntary  Actions   defined ;    their 

nervous  centres 

•  I.  The  Reflex  Actions   governing   the  organic  processes   through 

the  involuntary  muscles: — Rhythm  of  the  heart.  Vaso- 
nnotor  action — its  influence  on  the  secretions  and  the 
excretions.  Movements  of  the  intestines;  Deglutition — its 
three  stages ;  Colic  and  Diarrhoea ;  Vomiting 

•  II.  Reflex  Actions  affecting  organic  processes  through  the  volun- 

tary muscles: — Respiration, — coughing;    sneezing;    sucking 
III.  Reflex  Actions  affecting  the  organic  functions  by  the  medium 
of  the  cerebro-spinal  centres  and  the  involuntary  muscles : 
— Salivation ;  flow  of  tears  ;  winking  of  the  eye  ;  movements 
of  the  iris    ... 
IV.  Reflex  Actions  invohang   voluntary   muscles   stimulated  by 
the    cerebro-spinal    centres  : — movements     of    the    ciliary 
muscle ;    movements  in  the  ear  ;   reflex  movements  of  the 
senses  generally 
w       Actions  improperly  included  under  the  designation  '  Reflex ' 

Most  general  laws  at  present  attainable  regarding  Reflex  Action 
f      Resemblances  between  Reflex  Action  and  Voluntarv  Action 


The   Primitive   Combined   ]Movements. 
•  4.  The  Locomotive  Rhy&im.    Proofs  of  the  instinctive  origin  of  tl 
combination 

5.  It  implies  an  arrangement  for  reciprocating  each  limb    ... 

6.  Also  an  alternate  movement  of  corresponding  limbs 

7.  Thirdly,  a  vermicular  propagation  of  movement    ... 

8.  Associated  or  consensual  movements. — Associated  actions  of  the 

two  eyes 

9.  Law  of  Harmony  of  state  of  the  muscular  system 
10.  One  sense  instinctively  acting  for  another 


265 

ih. 


266 


ib. 
269 

274 


275 

277 
278 
280 


281 
282 
284 
285 

288 
289 


XX  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


V, 


The   Instinctive   Play   op   Feeling. 

•     11.  Movements    and   effects   diffused   under    Feeling.     Miiller   on 

'  Movements  due  to  the  passions  of  the  mind '  ...  ...         290 

12.  Sir  Charles  Bell  on  the  Movements  of  the /ace       ...         ...         ...         293 

13.  Muscles  of  the  face  concerned  in  expression. — Muscles  of  the 

Eyebrow       294 

14.  Muscles  of  the  Nose       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  296 

15.  Muscles  connected  with  the  movements  of  the  Mouth      ...         ...  ih. 

16.  The  Voice,  Diaphragm,   and  the  muscles  generally,  as  affected 

under   Feeling         ...  ..  ...         ...         ...         ...  ...         298 

«      17.  Organic  effects  of  Feeling. — The  Lachrymal  Gland,  the  Sexual 
Organs,    the"^  Digestive   Organs,  the   Skin,  the    Heart,    the 
Lungs,  and  the  Lacteal  Gland  in  women         ...         ...         ...         299 

■^    18.  Pleasure  connected  with    an   increase,  and  Pain  with  an  abate- 
ment of  the  vital  functions.     Examples  from  the  agents  of 
pleasure  and  pain  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         303 

»  19.  The  manifestations  of  feeling  considered  with  reference  to  the 
foregoing  principle.  Expression  divided  into  effects  of 
Movement  and  Organic  Effects.  Expression  of  the  Face. 
Expression  of  the  Voice.  Movements  of  the  Body  at  large. 
Involuntary  Muscles.  Organic  Effects.  Sudden  and  acute 
pain,  a  seeming  exception  to  the  law.  Pleasurable  and 
Painful  expression  contrasted    ...         ...         ...         ...  ...         807 

20.  Convulsive  outbursts  of  Laughter  and  Grief  ...         ...         ...         311 

21.  Exception  presented  by  the  Narcotic  Stimulants  ...         ...         ...         314 

»    22.  Natural  Stimulants  of  the  Senses  and  the  Emotions        ...         ...         315 

23.  Stimulation  uiight  be  considered  the   sole  principle ;    but  it  is 

better  to  allow  both  principles.     Covmtry  and  city  life         ...         316 

The  Instinctive  Germ  of  Volition. 


f  9    24.  Spontaneous  actions  at  the  foundation  of  the  Will.     Miiller  on 

the  first  commencement  of  voluntary  acts       ...         ...         ...         317 

25.  Spontaneity  by  itself  insufficient.  Voluntary  command  of  the 
organs  not  instinctive        ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         320 

26.  Primordial  elements  of  Will.  Will  not  exclusively  referable  to 
Choice.  An  idea  or  image  of  the  object  willed,  not  a  universal 
condition  of  will 321 

27.  Will  made  up  of  an  antecedent  motive  and  a  consequent  move- 
ment or  series  of  movements  having  reference  thereto. 
Motive  resolvable  into  Pleasurable  or  Painful  conditions. 
Primitive  circumstance  rendering  it  possible  to  start  the 
suitable  movements.  A  happy  fortuitous  commencement 
confirmed  by  the  retentive  power  ...         ...         ...         ...         322 

28.  Our  early  consciousness  reveals  a  power  to  instigate  random 
trials.     This  must  be  an '  advanced  stage  in  the  growth  of 


CONTENTS. 


XXI 


Will,  while  we  can  scarcely  conceive  the  previous  stages. 
Connexion  of  a  present  movement  with  a  present  feeling, 
without  any  intervening  link,  seen  all  through  life    ... 

29.  Contrasts  of   Will :— Movements   of  the   involuntary  muscles ; 

Spontaneous  movements  in  their  earliest  aspect ;  Emotional 
•  movements.     iVote  on  pleasure  as  a  voluntary  motive 

Hypothesis  of  the  Physical  instrumentality  accompanying  the 
mental  sequence  of  motive  and  result   ... 

The  Higheb  Instincts. 

30.  Instinctive  groundwork  of  our  intellectual  power.     Intellectual 

aptitudes  that  early  education  cannot  account  for: — Inter- 
preting emotional  expression  during  very  early  infancy ;  our 
feeling  ourselves  at  home  in  tri-dimensional  space.  The 
instincts  of  the  lower  animals  give  decisive  proof  of  matured 
intelligence  at  birth  ...  ..         


PAGE 


324 


325 


828 


329 


INTELLECT. 

t    Fundamental  attributes  of  Thought  or  Intelligence 
Consciousness  of  Difference 
Retentiveness 

Consciousness  of  Agreement,  or  Similarity 
Uses  of  the  scientific  discussion  of  the  intellectual  powers 


335  -^ 
ib. 
336 
337 
839 


CHAPTEK     I. 

RETENTIVENESS— LAW    OE  CONTIGUITY. 

*   1.  Statement  of  the  law.     Retentiveness  exemplified  under  conti- 
guity of  two  or  more  impressions.     Recognized  cases  where 
individual  impressions  are  made  self-sustaining         ...         ...         341 

Order  of  exposition  of  Intellectual  Powers  depending  on  a  balance 

of  conveniences       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         342 

Movements. 

•     2.  Effects  of  Repetition  on  the  Spontaneous  and  the  Instinctive 

actions          ...         ...         ...           ..          ...         ...         ...         ...  343 

«    3.  Acquisition  of  Aggregates  and  Trains  of  movements         ...         ...  845 

4.  Conditions  regulating  the  pace  of  Acquisition        ...         ...         ...  349 

I.  Continuance  or  Repetition          ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

I      II.  Mental  Concentration.      Amount  of  excitement  and  special 

direction.     Area  of  attention       ...          ...         ...         ...         ...  350 

»     Motives   to    Concentration — present    enjoyment,    future   enjoy- 
ment, pain  as  a  deterrent            ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  351 


XXll  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

•  Influence  of  neutral  excitement.      Area  of  concentration  larger 
than  the  stimulating  impression.     Meaning  of  vividness  or 
intensity  of  an  impression  ...  ...         ...         ...         352 

III.  Adhesiveness  of  the  individual  constitution  on  the  whole   ...         353 

5.  Conditions   special   to   Movements :     (1)    Bodily   Strength  ;    (2) 

Sponianeity;  (3)  Muscular  discrimination     ...  ...         ...  ib. 

Ideal  Feelings  of  Movejient. 

6.  Transition  from  the  Actual  to  the  Ideal       354 

7.  What  is  the  seat  of  muscular  and  other  feelings  persisting  after 

the  fact?      355 

8.  Seat  of  revived  impressions  the  same  as  that  of  the  originals  : — 

Examples  from  Movement  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         356 

9.  Examples  from  the  Senses      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         358 

10.  Emotions  and  Passions  . .         ...  ...         ...         ...         ...         359 

11.  The  tendency  of  an  idea  to  become  the  reality  is  an  active  povs^er 

of  the  mind,  and  interf erfes  with  the  will         360 

12.  The  tendency  exemplified  in  Fear,  and  in  other  instances  ...         361 
18.  Sympathy  is  our  acting  out  tlie  idea  of  other  men's  pains  and 

pleasures      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...  ...  ...  362 

14.  Ambition  is  often  of  the  nature  of  a  fixed  idea  ...  ...  ...  ih. 

15.  Bearings  of  the  foregoing  doctrine     ...         ...  ...  ...  ...  363 

16.  Association  of  Feelings  of  Movement            ...  ...  ...  ...  364 

I  17.  Examples  from  the  acquirements  of  Speech  ...  ...  ...  365 

18.  Circumstances  favouring  the  cohesion  of  feelings  of  movement  ib. 

Sensations  of  the  Same  Sense. 

19.  Association  of  sensations  of  the  same  sense  with  one  another     ..         366 

20.  The  Idea.     Effect  of  repetition  on  individual  sensations  ...         367 

21.  Sensations  of  Touch      368 

22.  Sensations  of  Hearing. — The  ear  has  to  be  formed  to  individual 

sounds  ;  Successions   of  sounds  : — music,  articulation,   elo- 
cution           371 

23.  Sensations  of  Sight : — Outline  Forms — scientific,  arbitrary,  and 

artistic  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  373 

24.  Coloured  Surfaces  376 

25.  Conditions  of  the  retention  of  visual  appearances  ...         ...  377 

26.  Span  or  grasp  of  an  instantaneous  sensation — how  advanced  by 

acquisition  ...         ...         ...  ...  ..  ...         ...         378 

27.  The  cumulative  operation  of  Contiguity  interrupted  by  diversity 

of  combination        ...         ...         ...         ...  ...  ...         ...  ib. 

28.  The  vastness  and  complicacy  of  the  sense  acquisitions  could  not 

be  overcome  without  the  system  of  2Jit<c/ini(/    ...         ...         ...         379 

Sensations  of  Different  Senses. 

29.  Movements  with  Sensations : — language  of  command      ...  ..  380 

30.  Muscular  ideas  with  Sensations : — Architectural  associations  ...  381 

31.  Sensations  with  Sensations      ...         ...         ...          ...         ...  ...  ib. 


CONTENTS.  XXlll 


PAGE 


•  32.  Rate  of  adhesiveness  in  Heterogeneous  Association.     The  topical 

memory        ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...        383 

Perception. 

t  33.  How  far  Perception  and  Sensation  agree.  Perception  something 
added  to  Sensation  proper.  Problems  of  Perception, — origin 
of  our  notion  of  Space       ...         ...         ...         ...  ...         ...         384 

External  Perception. 

•  34.  Distances  and  Magnitudes  of  External  Bodies        ...         ...         ...        387 

35.  Distance    and   Magnitude    imply    other   organs    than    the  eye. 

Berkeley's  theory  of  vision ;    criticism  of  objections   urged 
against  it      ...         ...         ..  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         388 

36.  Meaning  or  import  of  Extension        ...  ...         ...         ...         393 

•  37.  Extension  the  result  of  an  Association  of  mental  effects.     The 

opposing  views :  Hamilton  ...         ...         ...  ...         394 

,        Presence  of  a  hereditary  element  not  incompatible  with  this 

view 398 

Perception  and  Belief  of  the  Material  IVorld. 

38.  Questions  as  to  the  independent  existence  of  matter        ...         ...  ib. 

(1)  No  knowledge  possible  except  in  reference  to  our  minds         399 

(2)  The  sense  of  the  external  implies  our  own  energies        ...  ib. 

•  (3)  Our  experience  connects   certain  changes  of   sensation 

with  the  consciousness  of  certain  movements         . . .         401 
A  (4)  Experience  furnishes  the  materials  of  our  belief  in  what 

actually  takes  place         ..         ...         ...         ...         ...         403 

(5)  Suggestions  of  a  plurality  of  senses  .. .         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

(6)  Externality  means  what  is  common  to  us  with  others. 

The  external  world         ...         ...         ...        —         ...        404 

39.  Related  facts  in  Visual  perception  according  to  Wheatstone       ...         405 
»   40.  The  appreciation  of  Distance  follows  the  estimate  of  Magnitude. 

Reid  on  the  signs  of  distance  furnished  by  degrees  of  colour 

and  distinctness,  and  by  intervening  objects.     Note...         ...         407 

41.  Perception  of  Solidity  through    the  presentation  of  Dissimilar 

pictures  to  the  two  eyes.     Binocular  Vision    ...         ...         ...         409 

42.  Perception   of   Solidity  implied  in   the  perception  of  distance. 

Question  as  to  the  line  of  visible  direction  of  objects  ...         413 

Localization  of  bodily  feelings. 

•  43.  Our  own  body  is  to  us  an  external  object.     The  localizing  of 

feelings  is  acquired  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         415 

4  Associated  differences  in  Sensations. 

44.  Hypothesis  to  account  for  the  Localizing  of  our  feelings  of  Touch 

and  Sight.     Note     ...  ..         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         417 

45.  Associated   differences   in   the   Muscular  Feelings.     Hamilton's 

theory  of  the  inverse  relation  between  Sensation  and  Per- 
ception.    Arde         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         419 


XXIV  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


Associations  with  Feeling. 
46.  The  element  of  Feeling  may  be  allied  with  objects  ...         ...         422 

•  47.  Association  of  special  emotions  with  objects : — Objects  of  Affec- 

tion ;  associates  with  irascible  passion ;  overflowings  of 
Egotistic  emotion  ...         ...         ...  ...         ...         ...         ...         424 

48.  Love  of  money ;  passion  for  business  formalities    ...         ...         ...         426 

49.  Alisouian   theory   of    Beauty: — Distinction    between   primitive 

and  associated  effects ;  Sublimity  and  Beauty  of  sounds ; 
associated  effects  of  Forms  ...  ...  ...         ...         428 

50.  Reading  of  Emotional  expression : — Tlie  meaning  of  a  smile  or 

a  fl•o^^^l  acquired.  On  the  pace  of  this  acquirement  depends 
the  necessity  of  assuming  hereditary  transmission  or  instinct. 
Pleasure  from  the  sight  of  the  happiness  of  others.  Feelings 
of  IMoral  Approbation  and  Disapprobation       429 

Associations  of  Volition. 

«  51.  Acquired  nature  of  voluntary  power.  Things  implied  in  the 
voluntary  command  of  the  moving  organs.  Observations 
on  the  early  movements  of  two  lambs.     Note        ...         ...         433 

•  52.  Voluntary  acquisition  exemplified  by  the  case  of  Imitation         ...         436 

(1)  Imitation  wanting  in  early  infancy  ...         ...         ...         487 

(2)  The  power  is  progressive        438 

(8)  Efforts  of  imitation  are  at  the  outset  irregular    ...         ...  ib. 

(4)  Imitation  of  the  child's  own  acts  by  others          ...         ...  439 

(5)  Imitation  follows  spontaneity          ...         ...         ...         ...  440 

(6)  It  progresses  with  the  acquired  habits       ...           . .         ...  ib. 

(7)  Depends  on  the  delicacy  of  the  senses.     Importance  of 

gaining  the  attention    ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Hereditary  transmission,  as  preparing  the  way  for  the  stages 

described  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         441 

Natubal  Objects — Aggregates  op  Natural  Qualities. 

53.  External  objects  affect  us  through  a  Plurality  of  senses.     Im- 

portance of  sensuous  adhesiveness — the  Naturalist  ...         ...         442 

54.  Objects  having  uses,  or  related  properties    ...         ...         ...         ...         443 

Natural  and  Habitual  Conjunctions — Still  Life. 

55.  Variegated  imagery   of  the  world.     Importance  of  a  retentive- 

'  ness  for  Colour       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         444 

56.  Aggregates  constituted  by  artificial  representations — Maps,  Dia- 

grams, Pictorial  Sketches  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         446 

57.  Conjunction  of  objects  with  their  scientific  properties      ...         ...         447 

Successions. 
•      58.  Successions  and  changes  in  nature : — Cycles  ;  Evolutions  . . .         448 
59.  Natural  persistence  of  mental  movements  once  begun.  Influ- 
ence on  the  recoverv  of  successions       ...         ...         ...  ...         450 


458 
459 
461 
462 
ib. 


CONTENTS.  XXV 

PAGE 

60.  Successions  of  Cause  and  Effect.    Case  of  human  actions  as  causes        451 

61.  Action  and  reaction  of  man  on  man  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         453 

62.  Our  knowledge  of  li\ing  beings  made  up  in  part  of  those  suc- 

cessions.    Susceptibility  to  the  human  presence       ...         ...  ib. 

Mechanical  Acquisitions. 

63.  Conditions  of  mechanical  acquirement: — (1)  the  active  organ, — 

the  Muscles ;  (2)  the  Senses  concerned  ;  (3)  Taste,  or  liking, 

as  a  motive  to  concentrated  attention  ...         ...         ...         ...         454 

64.  [Method  of  mechanical  training : — Recruits   in   the    army  ;    the 

apprentice  in  handicraft  employment  ...         ...         ...         ...         456 

Vocal  or  Lingual  Acquisitions. 

65.  Acquisition  of  Vocal  music 

66.  Speech 

67.  The  mother  tongue 

68.  Foreign  languages         

69.  Oratorical  acquisition   ... 

Eetentiveness  in  Science. 

70.  The  Object  Sciences.     The  abstract  &nd,  the  cuncrete  Sciences,     ...         463 

71.  The  Subject  Sciences,  or  Mind.     Inquiry  into  the  nature   of 

the  aptitude  for  the  study  of  mind.     Anti-subjective  ten- 
dencies to  be  overcome  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...        467 

Business,  or  Practical  Life. 

72.  The  higher  branches  of  industry         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         470 

73.  [Management  of  human  beings  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Acquisitions  in  the  Fine  Arts. 

74.  Nature  of  Fine  Art.     Qualities  of  the  artist  ...         ...         ...         471 

(1)  Adhesiveness  for  the  material  of  the  art     ...         ...         ...  ib. 

(2)  Special  sensibility  for  the  effects  called  artistic    ...         ...         472 

(3)  An  artist  a  mechanical  workman   ...         ...  ...         ...  ib. 

History  and  Nabrative. 

75.  Transactions  witnessed : — their  mode  of  adhesion  ...         ...  ib. 

76.  Transactions  given  in  language  ...         ...         ...         ...  . .         474 

Our  Past  Life. 

77.  The  train  of  each  one's  existence       ...  ..         ...         ...         ...         475 

78.  Our  own  actions  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

79.  Composite  stream  of  our  past  life      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         477 

80.  General  observations  on  the  force  of  contiguous  adhesion : — I. 

Proofs  of  the  fact  of  General  adhesiveness  ;  II.  Superior 
plasticity  of  early  years     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         478 

Special  Circumstances  Governing  Recuperation. — (1)  Physical  con- 
ditions. (2)  Antecedent  situation  fully  given.  (8)  Readi- 
ness of  suggested  circumstance  to  arise.  (4)  Plural  associa- 
tions.    (5)  Recency  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         480 

Gradation  of  Adhesive  Intensity. — Consequence  of  extreme  itera- 
tion              482 


XXVI  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


#     Failure  of  Memory. — Causes  of  decay  in  our  acquisitions.     En- 
during acquisitions  ttie  main  case  illustrated.     Temporary 
acquisitions — Cramming  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         483 

Is  Consciousness  Essential,  to  Plasticity  ? — An  enigma  to  be  solved        485 
Econmny  of  the.  Plastic  Power. — The  practical  conclusion  from  the 

treatment  of  the  Law  of  Contiguity     ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

CHAPTER    II. 

AGREEMEXT— LAW  OF  SIMILARITY. 

•    1.  Statement  of  the  law.     KNOWLEDGE  involves  the  conscious- 
ness of  Agreement  as  well  as  the  consciousness  of  Difference  486 
'    2.  Mutual  relation  of  Contiguity  and  Similarity         487 

•  3.   Under  Similarity  there  is  supposed  a  f/e/tr<  of  likeness      ...         ...  489 

•  4.  The  defectiveness  is  either  Faintness  or  Diversity  ...  ...  490 

•  5.  The  power  of  re\4ving  like  in  the  midst  of  unlike,  an  important 

feature  of  intellectual  character,  varying  in  individuals      . . .         491 

Feebleness  of  Impression. 
6.  In  the  case  where  one  person  identifies  a  faint  sensible  impres- 
sion, and  another  does  not,  the  difference  may  be  accounted 
for  (1)  by  a  greater  naiural  delicacy  in  the  Sense  ;  (2)  greater 
previous  familiarity  with  the  particular  impression ;  (8)  by  the 
habit  of  concentrating  the  attention  on  the  subject,  in  other 
words,  the  acquired  delicacy  of  the  Sense.     To  these  local  cir- 
cumstances, maybe  added  (4)  General  potccr  of  Similarity  ...  ib. 
Feelings  of  Organic  Life  identified.     Acuteness  in  this  respect  ...         492 
Identification  of  Smells            ...          ...          ...         ...         ...         ...         493 

Hearing.     Influence  of  familiarity    ...         ...         ...         ...         ...        494 

Identification  of  objects  of  Sight  under  dimness     ...         ...         ...         495 

Acuteness  of  sense  in  the  Indians      ...         ...  ...         ...         ...  ib. 

The  scent  of  tlie  dog      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         . .  496 

Similarity  in  Diversity  :— Sensations. 

Likeness   with   unlike  accompaniments,  the  principal   field   of 

examples  of  the  law  of  Similarity  ...         ...  ...  ...         497 

Movements  : — Speech  ;  recall  of  sayings  by  similarity  in  diver- 
sity. To  the  three  local  conditions  of  recall,  specified  imder 
Faintness  (§  6),  there  is  to  be  added,  for  Diversity,  a  low  sus- 
ceptibility, m-  comparative  insensibility,  to  the  points  of  differ- 
ence    ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

15.  Sensations;  Organic  Life         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         501 

16.  Tastes       ib. 

17.  Identity  of  a  common   effect  from  different  causes : — Alcohol ; 
Pungent  odours  ;  Classification,  and  its  consequences  ...         502 

18.  Touches 504 

19.  Hearing.     Musical  and  articulate  identifications  in  the  midst  of 
diversity       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         505 


• 

7, 

^ 

8, 

9, 

10, 

11, 

12. 

» 

13, 

14 

CONTENTS.  XXVll 

PAGE 

20.  The  ear  as  concerned  in  Language     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...        508 

21.  Sensations  of  Sight        ...         ...         ...  ...         ...         ...         ...         609 

Identification  of  colours ;  Lustre           ...         ...  ...  ...  ih. 

Generalization  of  Forms — ^Mathematical  Diagrams  ...  ...  510 

Arbitrary  Forms — written  Language    ...         ...  ...  ...  511 

Peculiarities  of  the  verbal  mind  in  general      ...  ...  ...  512 

Artistic  Forms        ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...  ...  ib. 

Scenes  of  Nature    ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...  ...  513 

Visible  IMovements            ...         ...         ...         ...  ...  ...  514 

22.  Properties  common  to  sensations  of  different  senses  ...  ...  516 

Co>"TiGuous  Aggregates  : — Conjunctions. 

23.  Popular   classification   of    Natural    objects.       Ke-classifying   of 

things   already    classified  ...  ...         ...         ...         ...         518 

24.  Things  affecting  a  Plurality  of  Senses  520 

25.  Compounds  of  Sense  and  AssociatioQ  : — Objects  identified  from 

their  Hscs  .-  mechanical  invention  ;  the  steam-engine  ...  ib. 

26.  Natural  objects  identified  on  their  scientific  properties.    Chemical 

discoveries    ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         523 

27.  Classifications  of   the  naturalist ;  Linnteus.     Analogies  struck  by 

Goethe  and  Oke?i  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         526 

28.  The  Animal  Kingdom  : — Improved  classifications  ;  homologies  of 

the   skeleton ;  mental  peculiarities  of   Oken ;    enlargement 

of  our  knowledge  through  the  discovery  of  real  identities  ...  527 

Phenomena  of  Succession. 

29.  Various  modes  of  Succession.   Of  identities,  some  are  real,  others 

illustrative 529 

30.  Identification  among  the  different  classes  of  successions  : — Cycles ; 

Evolutions 530 

31.  Successions  of  Human  History ;  historical  comparisons  ...         ...  532 

32.  Institutional  comparisons — the  science  of  Society  ...         ...         ...  535 

33.  Scientific   causation :    Newton's  discovery  of   universal  gravita- 

tion;  intellectual  character  of  Newton  .. .         ...         ...         ...         536 

Eeasoning  and  Science  in  Geneeal. 

34.  The  different  processes  of  Science: — Abstraction  ;    Controversy 

of  Nominalism  and  Realism       ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         541 

35.  Induction  :    the  inductive  process  demands  the  powor  of  Simi- 

larity ;  Inductions  fitted  into  previously  established  for- 
mulas;    Laws  of  Kepler   ...         ...         ...^'•^.l         ...         ...         544 

36.  Deduction: — transfer  or  extension  of  prope  to  new  cases; 

Newton  on  the  diamond ;  given  an  ob  acur  case  to  find  a 
principle  to  illuminate  it ;  Franklin's  '  "identication  of  light- 
ning and  electricity  / 548 

37.  Reasoning  by  Analogy  ...  ...         ■■■    S      ■■■  .■        •••         ••■         ^^2 

38.  The  explanation  of  the  Reasoning  Facujlty  ...         553 

Business  and  Praactice. 

39.  Inventions  in  the  arts  : — James  Watt ;  jAdministratiou  of  public 


XXVlll 


CONTENTS. 


and  private   business; 
already  in  use 
40.  Persuasion 


Extension  to   new  cases   of  [devices 


Illustrative  Comparisons  and  Literary  Art. 

41.  Comparison  an  aid  to  intellectual  comprehension: — Bacon 

42.  Comparisons  for  ornament  and  effect : — the  Orator  and  the  Poet 

43.  Figures  of  speech  implying  comparison 

The  Fine  Arts  in  General. 

44.  Some  of  the  Fine  Arts  involve  the  intellect  largely 

45.  The  less  intellectual  Arts  ;  Intellect  in  the  Fine  Arts  generally 

Similarity  in  Acquisition  and  Memory. 

46.  Similarity,  by  tracing  repetitions,  shortens  the  labour  of  acquir 

ing  new  subjects     ... 

47.  Examples  from  Science 

48.  Business  acquisitions    ... 

49.  Case  of  the  Artistic  mind 

50.  Contiguity  tested  only  by  entire  and  absolute  novelty 

51.  The  Historical  Memory  

Concluding  Observations. 

52.  Faculties  implicated  in  the  operation  of  Similarity  : — Beasoning 

Imagination 

53.  Is  there  a  power  of  General  Similaritj'  ? 

54.  Question: — Can  Similarity  as  such  be  improved  ? 


PAGE 

554 

558 

559 
562 
563 

564 
565 


567 


Ol^ 


,.(}. 


573 

574 
ih. 


CHAPTER   III. 

COMPOUND  ASSOCIATION. 

1.  There   may  exist  in   any  one  case  a  plurality   of  associations. 

Statement  of  the  law 

Composition  of  Contiguities. 

2.  Contiguous  conjunctions  : — complex  wholes  and  concrete  objects. 

An  additional  link  may  often  be  itself  sufficient  to  effect 
the  recall 

3.  Connexion  with  locality  and  with  persons.     Searching  for  things 

lost 

4.  Connexion  of  t'  '■  gs  with  uses 

5.  Successions: — tf/' .*  Vietssion  of  Order  in  Time 

6.  Language  ...  .... 

. '    Composition  of   Similarities. 

7.  Increase  of  p'       <i  uf  rese\mblance 

8.  Mixture  of  lai^v  ;  ge  and  Siubject-matter 

Mixed  Contiguity  and    Similarity. 

9.  The  identities     ^uck  by  puris  Similarity  are  afterwards  recovered 

by  Simila         and  Conti/guity  mixed 
10.  Influence  of  pj       >.  ity  in  bringing  on  a  difficult  identification 


577 


578 

580 

582 
583 
584 

585 
587 


ib. 
588 


CONTENTS.  XXIX 


PAGE 


The   Element  op  Feeling. 
{"  11.  An  emotional  state  gives  its  characters  to  the  trains  of  recollection        589 
\  12.  The  purely  intellectual  bonds  are  made  subordinate  in  emotional 

natures         ...         ...         ...         ...  .•         ...         ...         ■■•         590 

Influence   of  Volition. 
»  13.  Modes  whereby  volition  may  operate  in  resuscitating  the  past         591 

(1)  By  the  stimulus  of  excitement         592 

(2)  By  controlling  the  intellectual  attention ib. 

A   Complex   Start  Needed   for  a   Single  Train. 
li.  Concurrence  of  other  suggesting  circumstances  with  an  object 

before  the  view        ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         594 

15.  Selection  of  one  out  of  many  properties  of  the  same  object         ...         596 

\  ,  Obstructive   Association. 

•  "   ■"'^collection    obstructed    by   the   mind's   being   possessed   with 

something  different  597 

±1.  Conflict  of  the  Artistic  and  the  Scientific  modes  of  viewing  the 

world.     Guessing  of  conundrums  598 

Association   of   Contrast. 

•  18.  Contrast  is  the  reproductive  phase  of  Discrimination  or  the  Law 

of  Relativity  599 

19.  Contiguity  and  Pimilarity  concur  in  recalling  contrasts 600 

20.  Contrasts  are  often  accompanied  with  Emotion 602 

21.  The   power  of   Similarity,  under  the  guise  of  contrast,    clears 

the  mind  of  contradictions  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         603 

CHAPTEE   IV. 

CONSTRUCTIVE  ASSOCIATION. 

•  1.  There  is  in  the  mind  a  power  of  original  construction      605 

]\Iechanical  Constructiveness. 

•  2.  Complex  acts  acquired  by  taking  the    simple   acts  separately. 

The  three  conditions  of  constructiveness  generally  ...         ...         606 

Verbal  Constructiveness. 

3.  Constructiveness   in    Speech.       Illustration   of    Volition    as   an 

element  in  constructiveness         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         607 

4.  Fulfilment  of  the  conditions  of  grammar,  etc.    ilT'\cessity  of  a 

large  stock  of  vocables.     The  similes  of  pc* -3    '       ...         ...         610 

Feelings  op  Movemen' 

5.  Construction  of   non-experienced  ideas   of  Wel^         Range,   etc. 

The  Associations  of  Architecture  ...      '^ .       -    ...         ...         612 

Constructiveness  in  the  Sensati 

•  6.  Forming  by  combination  new  states  of  Organic  Feeling 613 

7.  Tactual  constructions.     Disassociation        ...       ..i',-,  ,    ...         ...         615 

8.  States  of  Hearing  the  result  of  a  combining  efiox*^<. J 'iv    G16 

9.  Constructiveness  in  Sight        J-x^t     617 


XXX  CONTENTS, 


PAGE 


Construction  of  New  Emotions. 

10.  Elementary  emotions  of  human  nature  must  be  experienced. 

Changing  the  degree  of  a  known  feeling  ...         ...         ...         619 

11.  Combining  of  two  emotions  so  as  to  bring  out  a  third.    Examples        621 

CONCEETING    THE    ABSTRACT. 

12.  Given  the  abstract  properties  of  an  object,  to  conceive  the  object 

itself 622 

13.  The  farther  abstraction  is  carried,  the  more  difficult  it  is    to 

remount  to  the  concrete  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         624 

Realizing  of  Representation  or  Description. 

14.  The  methods  of  representation           ...          ...          ...          ...  ...          ib. 

15.  Verbal  description          ...          ...          ...         ...         ...         ...  ...         625 

16.  Maxim  of  the  describing  art  in  general  ; — to  combine  a  type 

with  an  enumeration         ...          ...          ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Constructiveness  in  Science. 

17.  Constructiveness  in  Abstract  ideas     ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  627 

18.  Induction 629 

19.  Processes  of  Deduction  ;  creations  of  mathematics            ...         ...  630 

20.  Experimental  science    ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ib. 

Practical  Constructions. 

21.  Region  of  practical  inventions.      The  turn  for  experimenting,  an 

attribute  of  inventors  :  Kepler,  Herschel,  Daguerre  ...  ...         631 

22.  The  mental  quality  termed  soundness  of  Judginent.      The  power 

of  adaptation  to  complicated  conditions  ...  ...  ...         633 

Fine  Art  Constructions — Imagination. 

23.  The  presence  of  an  emotional  element  in  intellectual  combina- 

tions.     Distinction   between  the  constructions  of  Imagina- 
tion and  the  constructions  of  science  and  of  practice.     Note         635 

24.  Combinations  ruled  by  emotions : — Terror,  Auger  .. .         ...  ...         637 

25.  Superstructures  reared  on  Egotistic  feeling 640 

26.  Constructions  to   satisfy  the  emotions  of  Fine  Art  properly  so 

called  642 

27.  The  artist's  standard  is  the  feeling  of  the  effect  produced  ...         643 

28.  Reconciliation  of  Art  with  Nature  ;  the  regard  due  to  truth  by 

an  artist        ...         ...  ...  ...  ...  ...         ...         ...         645 

APPENDIX. 

A.  Definition  and  Divisions  of  Mind. 

I.  Mutual  solidarity  of  the  three  Powers : — Question  whether  the 
three  fundamental  properties  of  Mind  can  operate  in  separa- 
tion, or  whether  they  are  necessarily  co-present       ...         ...         647 

II.  Order  of  Dependence  or  Causation  of  the  Three  Powers  : — The 
threefold  division  of  Mind  first  explicitly  made  in  Germany. 
Hamilton  holds  that  Cognition  is  the  foundation  property, 
with  a  qualification.     Herbart  made  Intellect  the  exclusive 


CONTENTS.  XXXI 

PACE 

fouu elation.  The  same  doctrine  repeated  by  Volkmann. 
Dr.  Ward's  statement  of  fundamentals  with  their  mutual 
dependence  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         648 

B.  Pleasure  and  Pain. 
'  Connexion  of  Pleasure  with  Remission  or  Change — not  the  same  as 
the  Law  of  Vitality.  Signal  failure  of  the  law  of  vitality  or 
Conservation  when  put  to  the  test  of  measured  concomitance. 
Additional  failure  to  explain  the  pleasures  of  Harmony. 
Stimulation  is  the  groundwork  of  the  principle  of  Credit ; 
no  provision  for  exact  repayment  ...  ...         ...         ...         654 

Review  of  Darwin  on  '  Expression  ' .  --  - 

Darwin's  three  principles.  The  first,  entitled  '  The  principle  of 
Serviceable  Associated  Habits'.  Second,  'Antithesis'. 
Third,  '  The  principle  of  actions  due  to  the  constitution  of 
the  Nervous  System  '.  Criticism  of  those  principles.  Im- 
,  portance  of  Spontaneity  of  Movements.  Illustrations  fur- 
nished by  Darwin  himself.  The  Law  of  Diffusion :  Ex- 
amples from  Darwin.  ^Meaning  of  the  principle  of  Anti- 
thesis. His  treatment  of  the  law  of  Pleasure  and  Pain  as 
related  to  heightened  and  lowered  vitality.  Critical  examina- 
tion of  his  examples.  Law  of  consentaneous  action  of  the 
muscles.  Limitation  and  Diversion  of  Energy.  Inheritance 
of  Emotional  Expression — Anger  and  Fear.  Frowning : — 
Key  to  the  expression  of  the  features  in  pain.  Theory  of 
Blushing       657 

C.   Seat  of  Bevived  Impressions.  x" 

Illustration  by  Wundt.     Opinion  of  Kant.      Sir  W.  Hamilton's  state- 
ment of  the  view.     Spencer's  theory  of  Memory         ...  ...         672 

Deeper  physical  accompaniments  of  thought : — Inferiority  of  the  Idea 
to  the  Sensation,  physically  as  well  as  mentally.  The  Idea 
as  favoured  by  Recency.  Physical  conditions  notably  affect 
the  recovery  of   the  Recent         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         674 

D.   Tlie  Presentation  Continuum. 

'  The  doctrine  of  Association  opposed  by  the  view  of  differentiation  of 
a  primitive  homogeneous  continuity.  The  hypothesis  of 
Evolution  supplies  the  best  situation  for  the  play  of  this 
principle.  The  beginning  of  the  Infant  life  can  only  for  a 
moment  exemplify  a  homogeneous  consciousness ;  differentia- 
tion must  already  have  done  its  work.  Growing  delicacy  of 
sense  discrimination  ;  the  amount  of  improvement  a  limited 
quantity       676 

\  Contiguous  Association  in  the  Ideas  of  Natural  Objects : — .\ssertion  of 
Dissociation,  rather  than  Association ;  as  the  means  of 
training  the  intellect.     Proper  sphere  of  Dissociation         . . .         679 


XXXll  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

E.  Subjective  Studies  and  Regards. 
Contrast  of  the  Object  and  Subject  directions  of  the  mind.  Study 
of  the  sciences  of  the  External  or  Object  world.  Knowledge 
of  the  mind  not  wholly  Subjective.  Pleasure  and  Pain,  pure 
Subjectivity.  Ethical  Self-examination.  Objective  regards 
— their  advantages  and  disadvantages.  Excessive  Subject- 
ivity. The  studj'  of  the  mind  must  contain  an  element  of 
Introspection  ...  ...  ...         ...         ...         ...  ...         680 

F.  The  Abstractions — Number,  Space,  Time,  Self. 

*  Question  as  to  the  intuitive  source  of  our  knowledge.  Innate  elements 
stated  either  as  Notions,  or  as  Principles.  Enumeration  of 
innate  elements      ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         684 

Nuinher. — Quantity  the  most  comprehensive  attribute  of  things.  Con- 
tinuous Quantity.  Discrete  quantity,  or  Ninnber.  The  most 
perfect  expression  of  quantity.     Not  an  intuition     ...         ...         685 

Space. — Our  notion  of  Space  or  Extension  possesses  a  certain  degree 
of  advancement  at  birth.  Supposed  hereditary  transmission. 
Not  incompatible  with  the  doctrine  that  assigns  its  genesis 
to  experience.  '  Forms  of  Thought '  not  an  adequate  ex- 
pression of  the  notion  as  possessed  at  birth     ...         ...         ..'.         686 

Time. — An  intuitive  '  form '  of  the  a  priori  school.  Must  be  grounded 
on  our  feeling  of  the  continuous  in  our  various  sensibilities. 
Discrimination  of  degree  in  Duration.  Consciousness  of 
succession,  as  uniting  past  and  present  reality.  Repre- 
sentative machinery  for  enlarging  our  expression  of  time. 
Question  whether  we  have  an  instinctive  preparation  for 
our  conception  of  time.  Feeling  of  flight  of  time  as  rapid 
or  slow  ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...         ...  ...         688 

Self — The  3/0 — Personality. — Inheritance  from  the  past  may  enter 
into  our  notion  of  Self.  Allied  issues  to  the  distinction  of 
Self  and  Not-self.  Problem  of  genesis : — what  are  the 
ultimate  elements  entering  into  the  development  of  our 
consciousness  of  Self,  and  what  is  the  order  of  time  in  their 
respective  contributions  ?  The  child  takes  cognizance  of 
its  own  body.  The  Organic  Sensations  an  initial  element. 
Self  as  active.  Ideation  as  opposed  to  Sensation.  Relations 
to  other  personalities — Language.  Lateness  and  difficulty 
of  separating  the  inner  self  from  the  bodily  self.  Personal 
Identity.     The  composite  notion  of  Personality         ...  ...         691 

G.  Classifications  of  the  Intellectual  Poiuers. 

Reid.  Dugald  Stewart.  Hamilton.  Samuel  Bailey.  Herbert 
Spencer.  Professor  Sully.  Professor  Hoffding.  Dr. 
James  Ward  695 

SujJj^lementary  Note  on  the  Expression  of  the  Laws  of  Association. 
Critical  examination  by  Dr.  Ward 707 


INTRODUCTION. 


CHAPTEE    I. 
DEFINITION  AND  DIVISIONS  OF  MIND. 

1.  rPHE  operations  and  appearances  that  constitute  Mind 
JL  are  indicated  by  such  terms  as  Feehng,  Thought, 
Memory,  Reason,  Conscience,  Imagination,  Will,  Passions, 
Affections,  Taste.  But  the  Definition  of  Mind  aspires  to 
comprehend  in  few  words,  by  some  apt  generalisation,  the 
whole  kindred  of  mental  facts,  and  to  exclude  everything 
foreign  to  these. 

Mind  is  commonly  opposed  to  Matter,  but  more  correctly 
to  the  so-called  External  World.  These  two  opposites 
define  each  other.  To  know  one  is  to  know  both.  The 
External,  or,  in  more  philosophical  language,  the  Object 
World  is  distinguished  by  the  property  called  Extension, 
pertaining  both  to  resisting  Matter,  and  to  unresisting,  or 
empty  Space.  The  Internal,  or  the  Subject,  World  is  our 
experience  of  everything  not  extended  ;  it  is  neither  Matter 
nor  Space.  A  tree,  which  possesses  extension,  is  a  part  of 
the  object  world  ;  a  pleasure,  a  volition,  a  thought,  are  facts 
of  the  subject  world,  or  of  mind  proper. 

Thus  Mind  is  definable,  in  the  first  instance,  by  the 
method  of  contrast,  or  as  a  remainder  arising  from  subtract- 
ing the  Object  World  from  the  totality  of  conscious  experi- 
ence. It  happens  that  the  Object  World  is  easily  defined  or 
circumscribed  ;  the  one  well-understood  property,  Extension, 
serves  for  this  purpose.  Hence  the  alternative,  or  the 
correlative  Mind,  can  be  circumscribed  with  equal  exactness. 

1 


'■I  DEFINITION    AND   DIVISIONS    OF    MIND. 

But  this  negative  definition,  although  precise,  so  far  as  it 
goes,  fails  to  indicate  the  full  scope  of  the  inquiry. 

The  distinction  of  the  Object  and  the  Subject,  the  world 
of  extension,  and  the  world  where  extension  has  no  part,  is 
still  farther  shown  by  the  manner  of  knowing  the  two.  For 
the  extended  or  outer  world,  we  employ  sense  observation  ; 
for  the  mental  world,  we  use  the  power  that  we  possess 
named  self-consciousness  or  introspection. 

„  Farther,  in  observation,  by  the  senses,  we  can  work  in 
the  company  of  our  fellow-beings  ;  the  same  world  that  is 
open  to  one  is  open  to  all,  and  the  impression  made  is  sub- 
stantially the  same  for  all.  In  the  exercise  of  introspection, 
each  of  us  works  apart  and  alone  ;  hence  the  study  of  the 
Subject  is  purely  individual ;  and  this  fact  of  Individuality 
is  sometimes  added  to  its  definition. 

The  importance  of  the  distinction  is  seen  in  connnuni- 
cating  knowledge  from  one  to  another.  It  is  easier  to 
impart  Object  knowledge,  from  the  circumstance  of  identical 
discernment.  In  Subject  knowledge,  the  communication  is 
indirect,  circuitous,  while  the  attainment  of  a  common 
understanding  is  precariouiiS. 

It  has  been  found  possible  to  sum  up  all  the  properly 
mental  phases  in  a  small  immber  of  general  properties, 
whose  enumeration  (which  is  strictly  speaking  a  Division)  is 
what  we  offer  as  a  positive  Definition  of  Mind. 

2.  The  phenomena  of  the  Unextended,  or  Subject  Mind, 
are  comprehended  under  three  heads  :  — 

I.  Feeling,  which  includes,  but  is  not  exhausted  by, 
our  pleasures  and  pains.  Emotion,  passion,  affection,  senti- 
ment, are  names  of  Feeling. 

II.  Volition,  or  the  AVill,  embracing  the  whole  of  our 
aictivity  as  directed  by  our  feelings. 

III.  Thought,  Intellect  or  Cognition. 

Our  Sensations,  as  will  be  afterwards  seen,  come  partly 
under  Feeling  and  partly  under  Thought. 

3.  First.  For  a  notion  of  what  Feeling  is,  we  must 
refer  each  person  to  their  own  experience.     The  warmth  felt 


FEELING.  6 

ill  sunshine,  the  sweetness  of  honey,  the  fragrance  of  flowers, 
the  beauty  of  a  landscape,  are  so  many  known  states  of 
feeling. 

Our  pleasures  and  pains  are  all  included  under  this  head  ; 
but  many  other  states,  both  simple  and  complex,  that  are 
neutral  as  regards  pleasure  and  pain,  must  also  be  referred  to 
it.  The  entire  compass  of  our  Feehngs  could  be  known  only 
by  an  exhaustive  enumeration  ;  from  which  also  we  might 
expect  to  obtain  a  general  definition  of  Feehng.  It  is  net 
requisite  at  this  stage  that  we  should  either  classify  the 
feelings,  or  arrive  at  their  common  or  defining  properties. 
It  so  happens  that  we  can  readily  circumscribe  this  part  of 
our  mental  being  by  the  negative  method  already  exemplified 
in  the  definition  of  mind  as  a  whole  :  for  the  characters  both 
of  thought  and  of  volition  are  remarkably  intelhgible  and 
precise,  and  therefore  give  us  a  ready  means  of  laying  down 
the  boundary  of  the  remaining  department. 

We  may,  however,  remark,  before  passing  to  the  consideration 
of  the  other  divisions,  that  the  presence  of  Feeling  is  the  foremost 
and  most  unmistakable  mark  of  mind.  The  members  of  the 
human  race  agree  in  manifesting  it.  The  different  orders  of  the 
l)rute  creation  show  symptoms  of  the  same  endowment.  The 
vegetable  and  mineral  worlds  are  devoid  of  it.  True,  it  is  each  in 
ourselves  that  we  have  the  direct  evidence  of  the  state  ;  no  one 
person's  consciousness  being  open  to  another  person.  But  finding 
all  the  outward  appearances  that  accompany  feeling  in  ourselves 
to  be  present  in  other  liuman  beings,  and,  under  some  variety  of 
degree,  in  the  lower  animals,  we  naturally  conclude  their  mental 
state  to  be  similar  to  our  owm.  The  gambols  of  a  child,  the  smile 
of  joy,  a  cry  on  account  of  pain,  and  the  corresponding  expressions 
for  mental  states  common  to  all  languages,  prove  that  men  in 
every  age  and  nation  have  been  similarly  affected.  The  terms 
for  expressing  pleasure  and  pain  in  their  various  forms  and  degrees, 
are  names  of  feelings ;  joy,  happiness,  bliss,  comfort,  sorrow, 
misery,  agony — are  a  few  examples  out  of  this  part  of  the  voca- 
bulary. 

Secondly.     All  beings  recognised  as  possessing  mind  can 


4  DEFINITION    AND    DIVISIONS    OF    MIND. 

not  only  feel,  but  also  act.  The  exerting  of  force  to  attain 
some  end  marks  a  mental  nature.  Eating,  running,  flying, 
sowing,  building,  speaking — are  operations  rising  above  the 
play  of  feeling.  They  all  originate  in  some  feelings  to  be 
satisfied,  which  gives  them  the  character  of  proper  mental 
actions.  When  an  animal  tears,  masticates  and  swallows  its 
food,  hunts  its  prey,  or  flees  from  danger,  the  stimulus  or 
support  of  the  activity  is  furnished  by  its  sensations  or  feel- 
ings. To  this  feeling-prompted  activity  we  give  the  name 
Volition. 

The  characteristic  of  being  stimulated  by  the  feelings  of 
sentient  beings  makes  a  wide  contrast  between  volition  and  the 
energies  familiar  to  us  in  nature, — the  powers  of  wind,  water, 
gravity,  steam,  gunpowder,  electricity,  vegetation,  etc.  For 
although  the  strong  personifying  tendency  of  mankind  has  often 
compared  these  powers  to  a  human  will,  yet  in  reasoning  about 
them  scientifically  no  such  comparison  is  admitted ;  while,  in  the 
explanation  of  voluntary  actions,  the  reference  to  feeling  and  to 
thought  is  indispensable. 

Volition  is  farther  contrasted  with  such  animal  functions  as 
breathing,  the  circulation  of  the  blood  and  the  movements  of  the 
intestines.  These  are  actions,  and  serve  a  purpose,  but  they  are 
not  strictly  mental  actions.  We  could  imagine  ourselves  so  con- 
stituted, that  these  processes  would  have  had  to  be  prompted  and 
controlled  by  sensations,  emotions  and  desires ;  they  would  then 
have  been  mental  actions.  k%  it  is,  they  form  a  class  apart, 
denominated  Eeflex  Actions.  When  narrowly  examined,  they 
appear  to  shade  by  insensible  degrees  into  voluntary  actions ;  but 
we  are  not  on  that  account  to  confound  the  broad  and  fundamen- 
tal distinction  between  the  unconscious  and  the  conscious,  involved 
in  the  opposition  of  the  reflex  and  the  voluntary. 

It  is  impossible,  in  a  brief  preliminary  sketch,  to  indicate 
and  discriminate  all  the  varieties  of  animal  activity.  There 
is  a  complication  to  be  unravelled  in  this  department  of  the 
mind,  such  as  to  test  severely  the  resources  of  mental  science. 
It  is  sufficient  to  remark,  as  the  most  general  law  of  volition, 
that  pleasure  prompts  to  action  for  its  continuance,  increase 


THOUGHT.  5 

or  renewal ;  and  that  pain  prompts  to  action  for  its  cessation, 
abatement  or  prevention. 

Thirdly.  The  concluding  attribute  of  the  mental  consti- 
tution is  Thought,  Intelligence,  Intellection  or  Cognition. 
This  includes  such  functions  as  Memory,  Keason,  Judgment 
and  Imagination.  The  first  fact  implied  in  it  is  Discrimina- 
tion, or  sense  of  difference,  shown  by  our  being  conscious  of 
one  sensation  as  more  intense  than  another,  or  when  we  are 
aware  of  two  feelings  as  differing  in  kind, — for  example,  pain 
and  pleasure,  taste  and  smell,  fear  and  anger.  Another  fact 
is  Similarity,  or  sense  of  agreement,  which  is  interwoven 
with  the  preceding  in  all  the  processes  of  thought.  When  we 
identify  any  sensation  or  present  mental  unpression  with 
one  that  occurred  previously,  there  being  an  interval  be- 
tween, we  exemplify  the  power  of  similarity ;  the  sun  seen 
to-day  recalls  our  previous  impressions  of  his  appearance.  A 
third  fact  or  property  of  the  Intellect  is  Betentiveness,  com- 
monly understood  by  the  familiar  names  '  memory '  and 
'  recollection '.  This  power  is  essential  to  the  operation  of 
the  two  former  powers  ;  we  could  not  discriminate  two  suc- 
cessive impressions,  if  the  first  did  not  persist  mentally  to  be 
contrasted  with  the  second ;  and  we  could  not  identify  a 
present  feeling  with  one  that  had  left  no  trace  in  our  frame- 
work. Betentiveness,  which  sums  up  all  that  we  designate 
by  memory,  acquisition,  education,  habit,  learning  by  ex- 
perience, is  not  wanting  in  the  lower  orders  of  sentient  life. 
For  an  animal  to  have  a  home,  a  certain  degree  of  memory 
is  requisite. 

We  have  seen  that  Volition  is  separated  from  Feeling,  by 
superadding  the  characteristic  of  actio)i,  or  the  putting  forth 
of  energy  to  serve  an  end.  And  now,  after  the  foregoing 
enumeration  of  Intellectual  attributes,  we  can  draw  the  line 
between  Thought  and  Feeling,  which  is  to  complete  the 
definition  of  mind,  so  far  as  is  needful  at  the  outset. 

In  proportion  as  a  mental  experience  contains  the  facts  named 
discrimination,  comparison  and  retentiveness,  it  is  an  Intellectual 
experience  ;  and  in  proportion  as  it  is  wanting  in  these,  and  shows 


6  DEFINITION    AND    DIVISIONS    OF    MIND. 

itself  in  pleasure  or  pain,  it  is  of  the  nature  of  Feeling.  The  very 
same  state  of  mind  may  have  both  an  intellectual  side  and  an 
emotional  side ;  indeed,  this  is  the  usual  occurrence.  And,  like 
many  things  that  are  radically  contrasted,  as  day  and  night,  these 
two  distinct  facts  of  our  nature  pass  into  one  another  by  a  gradual 
transition,  so  that  an  absolute  line  of  separation  is  not  always 
possible  ;  a  circumstance  that  does  not  invalidate  the  genuineness 
of  their  mutual  contrast. 

The  exercise  of  Thought  is  greatly  mixed  up  with  Voli- 
tion also,  but  there  is  rarely  any  difficulty  in  distinguishing 
the  two  functions.  Indeed,  it  is  a  matter  of  doubt  whether 
we  can  ever  exist  in  one  state  alone.  Still,  in  our  explana- 
tions of  things,  we  often  require  to  separate  in  statement 
what  is  not  separated  in  fact. 

4.  If  we  advert  to  the  various  classifications  of  the  mental 
phenomena  that  have  hitherto  passed  current,  we  shall  find 
that  the  three  attributes  above  specified  have  been  more  or 
less  distinctly  recognised. 

In  the  old  division  of  mind  into  Understanding  and  Will,  the 
element  of  Feeling  would  appear  to  be  left  out  entirely.  We  shall 
find  in  fact,  however,  that  the  feelings  are  implicated  in,  or  placed 
under,  both  heads.  The  same  remark  applies  to  Reid's  classifica- 
tion, also  twofold  and  substantially  identical  with  the  foregoing, 
namely,  into  Intellectual  Potoers  and  Active  Poivers.  The  sub- 
merged department  of  Feeling  will  be  found  partly  mixed  up  with 
the  Intellectual  Powers,  wherein  are  included  the  Senses  and  the 
Emotions  of  Taste,  and  partly  treated  of  among  the  Active 
Powers,  which  comprise  the  exposition  of  the  benevolent  and 
the  malevolent  Affections. 

Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  displeased  with  the  mode  of  applying  the 
term  '  Active  '  in  the  above  division,  went  into  the  other  extreme, 
and  brought  forward  a  classification  where  Feeling  seems  entirely 
to  overlie  the  region  of  Volition.  He  divides  mental  states  into 
External  affections  and  Internal  aff'ections.  By  external  affections 
he  means  the  feelings  we  have  by  the  Senses,  in  other  words. 
Sensation.  The  internal  affections  he  subdivides  into  Intellectual 
states  of  mind  and  Emotions.  His  division  therefore  is  tanta- 
mount to  Sensation,  Emotion,  and  Intellect.     All  the  phenomena 


FUNDAMENTALS    OF    MIND.  7 

commonly  recognised  as  of  an  active  or  volitional  character,  he 
classes  as  a  part  of  Emotion. 

Sir  William  Hamilton,  in  remarking  on  the  arrangement 
followed  in  the  writings  of  Dugald  Stewart,  states  his  own  view 
as  follows  : — '  If  we  take  the  Mental  to  the  exclusion  of  Material 
phenomena,  that  is,  the  phenomena  manifested  through  the 
medium  of  Self-consciousness  or  Eeflexion,  they  naturally  divide 
themselves  into  three  categoi'ies  or  primary  genera  ; — the  pheno- 
mena of  Knoioledge  or  Cognition, — the  phenomena  of  Feeling 
or  of  Pleastire  and  Pain, — and  the  phenomena  of  Conation  or 
of  Will  and  Desire.'  Intelligence,  Feeling,  and  Will,  are  thus 
distinctly  set  forth. 

The  mutual  solidarity  of  the  fundamental  attributes  of 
Mind  has  been  variously  stated.  Some  have  aftirmed  it  in 
the  form  of  absolute  and  inseparable  co-existence,  like  length, 
breadth,  and  thickness  in  a  material  body.  Thus,  according 
to  Hamilton — '  Thought  and  Volition  can  no  more  be 
exerted  apart  than  the  sides  and  angles  of  a  square  can  exist 
separately  from  each  other  '. 

X  second  question  relates  to  the  priority  of  the  different 
powers  in  the  order  of  dependence  or  causation.  Upon 
this,  a  decided  position  is  taken  by  Hamilton,  as  v^ell  as  by 
the  Germans,  in  favour  of  the  primacy  of  Cognition  or 
Thought,  from  which  the  others  are  derived  or  educed. 
The  full  discussion  of  this  matter  raises  other  questions  of 
a  fundamental  character.     See  Note  A. 

So  far  we  have  been  dealing  with  the  fundamental  notions 
of  Mental  Science,  as  expressed  in  the  highest  generalities 
yet  reached.  It  remains  that  we  should  briefly  indicate  the 
ultimate  or  foundation  laws,  axioms,  or  truths  of  the  science, 
if  any  such  are  attainable.  The  Science  of  Mechanics  follows 
up  its  Definitions  with  the  Laws  of  Motion ;  Chemistry 
commences  with  the  Atomic  Theory,  which  rules  all  that 
follows. 

As  regards  Psychology,  the  most  fundamental  and  per- 
vading truths  are  these:  — 

I.  The  Alliance  of  Mind  and  Body. 


8  DEFINITION    AND   DIVISIONS    OF    MIND. 

The  thorough-going  concomitance  of  physical  processes 
with  mental  is  a  law  of  all  mind.  It  will  be  vindicated, 
once  for  all,  in  the  next  chapter  (Brain),  and  will  be  un- 
folded in  the  detail  as  the  exposition  proceeds. 

II.  Connected  with  each  of  the  three  powers,  there  are 
Jaws  of  more  or  less  generality. 

(1)  The  Law  of  Kelativity,  or  the  dependence  of  each 
state  upon  the  state  or  states  preceding. 

(2)  The  Law  of  Ketentiveness,  which,  although  most 
identified  with  Intellect,  is  likewise  essential  to  Feeling  and 
to  Will,  both  of  which  contain  acquisitions  and  growths  as 
a  part  of  their  nature. 

(3)  The  Law  of  Stimulus. 

There  is  here  a  general  principle  that  the  mental  impres- 
sions due  to  outward  stimulation  of  the  Senses,  are  pro- 
portioned to  the  intensity  of  the  stimulus  in  each  case. 

This  principle  is  modified  by  another,  namely,  the  dimi- 
nution of  the  effect  after  continuance. 

These  laws  belong  more  especially  to  the  treatment  of 
Sensation. 

(4)  The  Laws  of  Mutual  Action  of  the  Three  Powers. 
It  has  to  be  shown  in  detail,  how  Feeling,  Will,  and 

Thought  act  and  re-act  on  each   other. 

5.  In  the  plan  of  the  present  volume,  Part  first,  entitled 
'  Movement,  Sense,  and  Instinct,'  will  include  the  discussion 
of  both  Feeling  and  Volition  in  their  lower  forms,  that  is, 
apart  from  Intellect,  or  so  as  to  involve  Intellect  in  the  least 
possible  degree  ;  the  Sensations  of  the  different  Senses  will 
ibrm  a  leading  portion  of  the  contents.  This  division  will 
cover  all  that  is  primitive  or  instinctive  in  the  susceptibilities 
and  impulses  of  the  mental  organisation.  The  second  Part 
will  aim  at  a  full  exposition  of  the  Intellectual  properties. 

Thus,  while  Feehng,  Volition,  and  Intellect  are  regarded 
as  the  ultimate  properties  and  the  fundamental  classification 
of  mind,  it  is  not  proposed  that  the  exposition  should  proceed 
strictly  in  the  order  thus  stated. 


CHAPTEB    II. 
THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

1.  A  LTHOUGH  Subject  and  Object  (Mind  and  Matter)  are 
-lA.  the  most  diametrically  opposite  facts  of  om'  experi- 
ence, yet  there  is  a  concomitance  or  connexion  between 
mind  and  a  material  organism.  This  position  is  best  sup- 
ported by  the  subsequent  details. 

The  parts  of  the  human  frame  that  chiefly  concern  the 
student  of  mental  science  are  the  Nerves  and  Nerve  Centres 
(principally  collected  in  the  Brain),  the  Organs  of  Sense,  and 
the  Muscular  System.  The  organs  of  sense  and  of  move- 
ment will  be  described  afterwards ;  a  brief  description  of 
the  Nerves  and  Nerve  Centres  will  occupy  this  preliminary 
chapter,  in  which  we  shall  confine  ourselves  as  far  as  possible 
to  the  facts  bearing  directly  or  indirectly  upon  Mind. 

2.  That  the  Brain  is  the  principal  organ  of  Mind  is 
proved  by  such  observations  as  the  following : — 

(1)  From  the  local  feelings  that  we  experience  during 
mental  excitement.  In  most  cases  of  bodily  irritation,  we 
can  assign  the  place  or  seat  of  the  disturbance.  We  localise 
indigestion  in  the  stomach,  irritation  of  the  lungs  in  the 
chest,  toothache  in  the  gums  or  jaws  ;  and  when  the  mental 
workings  give  rise  to  pain,  we  point  to  the  head.  In  ordinary 
circumstances  we  have  no  local  consciousness  of  mental 
action,  but  in  a  time  of  great  mental  agitation,  or  after  any 
unusual  exertion  of  thought,  the  aching  or  oppression  in  the 
head  tells  where  the  seat  of  action  is,  precisely  as  aching 
limbs  prove  what  muscles  have  been  exercised  during  a  long 
day's  march.  The  observation  can  occasionally  be  carried 
much  farther  ;  for  it  is  found  that  a  series  of  intense  mental 


10  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

emotions,  or  an  excessive  strain  on  the  powers  of  thinking 
will  end  in  a  diseased  alteration  of  the  substance  of  the  brain. 

(2)  Injury  or  disease  of  the  brain  iiupairs  in  some  way 
or  other  the  powers  of  the  mind.  A  blow  on  the  head  will 
destroy  consciousness  for  the  time  ;  a  severe  hurt  will  cause 
a  loss  of  memory.  The  various  disorders  of  the  brain,  as 
inflammation,  softening,  etc.,  are  known  to  affect  the  mental 
energies.  Insanity  is  known  to  be  accompanied  by  cerebral 
disease. 

(3)  The  products  of  nervous  waste  are  increased  when 
the  mind  is  more  than  ordinarily  exerted.  The  alkaline 
phosphates  (triple  phosphate  of  ammonia  and  magnesia) 
removed  by  the  kidneys  are  derived  principally  from  the 
waste  of  nervous  substance  ;  and  they  are  sensibly  increased 
after  great  mental  exertion  or  excitement.  Phosphorus 
abounds  more  in  the  brain  than  in  any  other  tissue. 

(4)  There  is  an  indisputable  connexion  between  size  of 
brain  and  the  mental  energy  displayed  by  the  individual 
man  or  animal.  It  cannot  be  maintained  that  size  is  the 
sole  circumstance  that  determines  the  amount  of  mental 
force.  But  just  as  largeness  of  muscle  gives  greater  strength 
of  body,  as  a  general  rule,  so  largeness  of  brain  gives  greater 
vigour  of  mental  impulse.  The  measurements  of  the  heads 
of  remarkable  men  ha\e  often  been  quoted.  '  All  other  cir- 
cumstances being  alike,'  says  Dr.  Shai-pey,  '  the  size  of  the 
brain  appears  to  bear  a  general  relation  to  the  mental  power 
of  the  individual, — although  instances  occur  in  which  this, 
rule  is  not  applicable.  The  brain  of  Cuvier  weighed  upwards 
of  64  oz.,  and  that  of  the  late  Dr.  Abercrombie  about  63  oz. 
avoirdupois.  On  the  other  hand,  the  brain  in  idiots  is. 
remarkably  small.  In  three  idiots,  whose  ages  were  sixteen, 
forty,  and  fifty  years,  Tiedemann  found  the  weight  of  their 
respective  brains  to  be  19f  oz.,  25f  oz.,  and  "22^  oz.;  and  Dr. 
Sims  records  the  case  of  a  female  idiot  twelve  years  old 
whose  brain  weighed  27  oz.  The  weight  of  the  human 
brain  is  taken  at  about  3  lbs.  (48  oz.).' 

(5)  The    specific   experiments   on  the   nerve  cords  and 


THE  BRAIN  THE  ORGAN  OF  MIND.  11 

nerve  centres,  to  be  afterwards  quoted,  have  proved  the  im- 
mediate dependence  of  sensation,  intelligence  and  volition 
on  those  parts. 

No  fact  in  our  constitution  can  be  considered  more 
certain  than  this,  that  the  brain  is  the  chief  organ  of  mind, 
and  has  mind  for  its  principal  function.  As  we  descend  in 
the  animal  scale,  through  Quadrupeds,  Birds,  Reptiles,. 
Fishes,  etc.,  the  nervous  system  dwindles  according  to  the 
decreasing  measure  of  mental  endowment. 

STRUCTURE  OF  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 
General  View  of  the  Nervous  System. 

The  Nervous  System  is  divided  into  two  parts — a  central  part 
and  an  internuncial  part.  The  central  part  is  the  Cerehro-spinal 
axis,  which  includes  the  brain  (or  encephalon)  and  the  spinal 
cord.  These  in  turn  are  divided  into  special  centres,  and  are, 
properly  speaking,  collections  of  centres.  The  internuncial  part 
is  the  system  of  nerves.  These  are  cords  of  gi'eater  or  less  size 
and  complexity,  which  connect  the  cerebro-spinal  axis  with  the 
circumference  (periphery)  of  the  body.  At  the  central  end,  these 
cords  pass  into  the  nerve  centres,  and  form  a  part  of  the  central 
system  ;  at  the  peripheral  end,  they  are  variously  modified  accord- 
ing to  the  parts  that  they  supply.  These  modifications  give  birth 
to  the  motor,  sensory,  and  other  end-organs. 

Besides  the  cerebro-spinal  axis  and  its  nerves,  there  is  a 
second  system — the  Si/vqxithetic — which  connects  itself  intimately 
with  every  part  of  the  other.  The  central  part  of  the  Sympathetic 
is  a  series  of  ganglia  or  small  bodies  of  nerve  matter,  which  lie 
principally  to  the  right  and  left  in  front  of  the  vertebral  colunm. 
The  internuncial  part  is  a  system  of  nerve  cords,  which  pass  from 
the  ganglia  to  the  viscera,  and  to  the  various  parts  of  the 
cerebro-spinal  system.  Up  till  recently,  physiologists  regarded  the 
sympathetic  as  essentially  a  separate  system  ;  now  they  regard 
it  as  merely  a  part  of  the  cerebro-spinal  system,  peculiarly  modi- 
fied. The  superficial  resemblance  of  its  disparate  ganglia  to  the 
ganglionated  nerve  cords  of  some  lower  animals  suggested  the 
hypothesis  that  the  sympathetic  system  is  the  true  homologue  of 
the   nervous  svstem   of  invertebrates.      This  hypothesis  is  now 


12 


THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 


Fig.   1. 


Diagram  of  the  Cerebro- 
spinal and  Sympathetic 
Nerves  (Ferrier). 

This  diagram,  composed 
and  modified  after  figures 
by  Quain,  represents  tlie 
spinal  cord  as  seen  from 
before. 

The  spinal  nerves  are 
indicated  by  the  Roman 
numerals  :  —  ci-viii  being 
the  cervical  nerves  ;  di-xii, 
the  dorsal  ;  li-v,  the 
Ivmibar,  and  the  rest,  not 
specially  numbered,  the 
sacral  nerves. 

The  plexiform  arrange- 
ment of  the  nerves  is  seen 
on  the  left  side. 

The  brachial  plexus  is 
seen  to  be  composed  of 
branches  from  cv  to  di, 
with  some  communicating 
branches  from  civ  to  dii  ; 
the  lumbo-sacral  plexus  is 
seen  to  derive  branches 
from  LI  to  siv  inclusive. 

The  individual  branches 
of  these  plexuses  are  indi- 
cated by  letters  and  small 
numerals,  but  are  not  here 
named  in  detail. 

The  sympathetic  cord  and 
ganglia  are  seen  on  the 
right  side,  with  their  jmic- 
tions  with  the  spinal  nerves, 
II,  the  superior  cervical  gan- 
glion ;  b,  the  middle  cervical 
ganglion ;  cd,  the  inferior 
cervical  ganglion,  united 
with  the  first  dorsal  gan- 
glion; ,s^j,  the  great  splanch- 
nic nerve ;  .sjOo,  the  lesser 
splanchnic  nerve ;  d',  the 
eleventh  dorsal  ganglion  ; 
,«,  tlie  upper  sacral  ganglion. 


NEEVE    MATTER.  13 

abandoned.  The  researches  of  Gaskell  and  others  demonstrate 
that  the  sympathetic  system  is  only  a  modification  in  the  distri- 
bution of  the  cerebro-spinal  nerves  (Fig.  1). 

Grey  and  White  Nerve  Matter. 

To  the  naked  eye  the  matter  of  the  nervous  system  is  of  two 
kinds — grey  matter  and  white  matter.  The  gi'ey  matter  forms  a 
large  part  of  all  nerve  centres — of  brain,  of  spinal  cord,  of  ganglia. 
The  white  matter  also  forms  a  large  part  of  the  same  centres,  and 
forms  almost  the  whole  of  the  internuncial  system.  The  grey 
matter  of  the  centres  distributes  itself  variously  and  in  varying 
proportions  through  the  white  ;  and  a  description  of  grey  and  white 
matter  would  be  a  naked-eye  description  of  the  nervous  system. 

Under  the  microscope,  nerve  matter  is  found  to  consist  of 
nerve  cells  or  corpuscles  and  nerve  fibres.  These  are  the  two 
structural  elements  of  the  nervous  system.  In  the  centres  they 
lie  embedded  in  a  cement  substance  [neurogleia),  whose  structure 
is  as  yet  undetermined. 

Nerve  Cells,  Nerve  Corpuscles  or  Ganglionic  Cells. 

Nerve  cells  (Fig.  2),  named  also  ganglion  cells  or  nerve  cor- 
puscles, are  found  in  the  grey  matter  of  the  brain  and  spinal  cord, 
in  the  sympathetic  and  other  ganglia,  in  some  of  the  nerves  of 
special  sense,  and  occasionally  in  the  course  of  certain  other  nerves. 
They  constitute  a  large  part  of  nervous  grey  matter.  '  Of  the 
grey  substance,  Henle  estimates  that  one-half  is  fibrous,  the  rest 
is  partly  cellular,  partly  amorphous '  (G.  H.  Lewes :  Physical 
Basis  of  Mind,  p.  252). 

A  nerve  cell  is  a  small  mass  of  protoplasm,  with  a  nucleus  and 
a  nucleolus.  The  protoplasm  is  finely  granular  and  sometimes 
indistinctly  striated,  brownish  red  in  colour,  and  occasionally  con- 
taining round  the  nucleus  small  accumulations  of  brown  or  yellow 
pigment-granules.  The  nucleus  is  a  large,  clear,  rounded  vesicle, 
containing  always  a  distinct,  highly  refractile  nucleolus  and  some- 
times an  intra-nuclear  network.  The  nucleus  in  some  cases  is 
the  greater  part  of  the  cell. 

In  shape,  nerve  cells  vary  according  to  the  part  of  the  nervous 
system  that  they  belong  to.  Thus  the  cells  from  some  nerve 
ganglia  are  spheroidal,  from  others  spindle-shaped ;  those  from 


14 


THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 


the  sympathetic  gangha  are  more  angular ;  those  from  the  spinal 
grey  matter  are  irregular  ;  those  from  the  grey  matter  of  the  brain 
are  spheroidal,  or  pyramidal,  or  flask-shaped.  Cells  have  branch- 
ing processes,  and  sometimes  take  their  names  according  to  the 
number  of  processes — uni-polar,  hi-polar,  multi-polar.  '  The 
number  of  processes  given  off  by  a  nerve  cell  varies,  but  seldom 
exceeds  five  or  six.  Apolar  nerve  cells  seem  to  be  physiologically 
inconceivable.       [This,    however,   only    on   the    supposition    that 


Fig.  2. 


A  cell  from 
the  anterior 
horn  of  the 
spinal  cord 
of  the  pike. 
3Iagn.  150. 


A  cell  from  the  anterior  horn  of  the 
hmnan  spinal  cord.  Magn.  150. — a. 
Axis-cylinder  process ;  b,  clmnji  of  pig- 
ment. 


A  pigmented 
cell  from  the 
substantia  fer- 
ruginea.  Hu- 
man brain. 
Magn.  150. 


nerve  impulses  are  not  transmissible  by  other  than  recognisable 
cell  processes  or  developed  fibres.  But  see  Mercier :  Nervous 
System  and  the  Mind,  p.  43,  and  Foster:  Physiology,  5th  ed.,  p. 
1025.]  They  are  to  be  looked  on  either  as  developing  cells  or  as 
artificial  products.  Eauber  regards  such  apolar  cells  as  arrested 
developments  ;  cells  remaining  in  their  original  processless  con- 
dition. It  is  difficult  to  understand  the  physiological  value  of 
unipolar  cells,  since,  as  a  rule,  their  processes  divide  soon  after 


NERVE    CELLS. 


15 


ct-i 


they  are  given  off  from  the  cell.     Many  of  them  may,  therefore, 
be  looked  upon  as  Ijipolar  cells,  the  processes  of  which  unite  be- 

FiG.  3. 

Portions  of  two  nerve  fibres  stained  witli  osmic  acid  A  B 

(from  a  young  rabbit).  425  diameters  (E.  A.  S.) 
{Quain's  Aaatomy). 

R,  R,  Nodes  of  Ranvier,  with  axis-cylinder  passing- 
through,  a,  Primitive  sheath  of  the  nerve,  c.  Oppo- 
site the  middle  of  the  segment  indicates  the  nucleus 
and  protoplasm  lying  between  the  primitive  sheath 
a.nd  the  medullary  sheath.     In  a  the  nodes  are  wider,  ^^     r 

and  the  intersegmental  substance  more  apparent  than 
in  B.     (From  a  drawing  by  Mr.  J.  E.  Neale.) 

fore  they  join  the  cells.  Eanvier  has  proved 
that  this  is  the  case  with  the  cells  [of  the 
spinal  ganglia]  which  have  a  single  T-shaped 
process.'  The  finest  ramifications  of  the 
processes  join  a  nerve  network  from  which 
again  the  branches  are  probably  re-associated 
into  thicker  fibres  clothed  with  medullary 
sheaths  '  (Obersteiner  :  The  Anatomy  of  the 
Central  Nervous  Organs,  Eng.  transl,  p.  125). 

In  size,  nerve  cells  varv  from  ^i^^th  to 
^^igth  of  an  inch.  The  differences  of  shape 
are  probably  incidents  of  development  or 
mechanical  surroundings  ;  the  differences  of 
size  are  probably  correlative  with  some  difi'er- 
ences  in  function.  The  size  seems  to  varv  in 
many  instances  directly  as  the  length  of  the 
fibre  proceeding  from  the  cell,  the  longer  fibre 
requiring  a  larger  nutritive  centre  (Ober- 
steiner, op.  cit.,  p.  1.30). 

From  the  minute  size  of  nerve  cells,  and 
the  large  quantity  of  grey  matter  constituted 
by  them,  we  must  reckon  their  total  number 
by  millions.  But  for  all  their  number  is  vast, 
the  nerve  cells  have  probably  taken  too  high 
a  place  in  speculative  physiology ;  their 
development  and  ultimate  structure,  their 
grouping  and  their   relation    to  fibres,   their 


16  •     THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

composition  and  the  products  of  their  activity— these  have,  none 
of  them,  yet  arrived  at  a  final  demonstration,  and,  in  the  assigning 
of  functions  to  the  grey  matter,  no  hypothesis  will  be  adequate 
that  does  not  require  in  the  cells,  in  their  inter-connexions  or  in 
their  amorphous  matrix,  a  gi'eater  complexity  of  structure  than 
the  methods  of  microscopical  research  have  yet  been  able  to  reveal. 

Nerve  Fibbes. 

Nerve  fibres  are  found  in  the  white  nerve  matter  of  brain  and 
spinal  cord,  and  iri  the  nerve  cords  of  the  cerebro-spinal  and 
sympathetic  systems.  They  are  of  two  kinds — meduUated  nerve 
fibres  and  non -meduUated. 

MeduUated  nerve  fibres. — A  meduUated  nerve  fibre  consists  of 
three  parts, — the  axis-cylinder,  the  medullary  sheath,  and  the 
primitive  sheath  (Fig.  3).  The  axis-cylinder  is  a  soft  transparent 
thread  in  the  centre  of  the  nerve  fibre.  It  runs  continuously  along 
the  whole  length  of  the  fibre  from  central  origin  to  peripheral 
distribution,  giving  no  branches  in  its  course,  and  forming  no  con- 
nexion with  the  other  fibres  of  the  nerve  cord.  It  connects  itself  at 
the  central  end  with  the  process  (probably  with  one  chief  process) 
of  a  nerve  cell ;  at  the  peripheral  end,  with  the  peripheral  end 
organ.  The  axis-cylinder  is  the  one  essential  part  of  every  nerve 
fibre.  It  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  direct  continuation  of  a  nerve 
cell  process.  It  is  made  up  of  exceedingly  fine  fibrils — the 
'primitive  fibriUce  of  Schultze.  These,  embedded  in  a  homo- 
geneous or  finely  granular  cement  substance,  give  to  the  axis- 
cylinder  a  longitudinal  striation  (Fig.  3).  In  diameter  the 
axis-cylinder  does  not  exceed  yooVoo^^  °^  ^^^  inch.  It  is  held 
that  in  cells  the  process  that  is  to  become  an  axis-cylinder  of  a 
nerve  fibre  can  be  distinguished  from  the  other  processes  of  the 
ceU. 

The  meduUary  sheath,  or  white  substance  of  Schwann,  forms  a 
tube  round  the  axis-cylinder.  This  sheath,  largely  fatty  in  com- 
position, is  a  homogeneous,  highly  refractile  structure,  giving  to 
the  nerve  fil^re  its  double  contour  and  tubular  appearance.  In 
the  peripheral  meduUated  fibres,  this  sheath  is  interrupted  at 
regular  intervals — the  nodes  of  Banvier.  At  those  nodes  the  only 
covering  of  the  axis-cylinder  is  the  primitive  sheath. 

The  primitive  sheath  of    Schwann  forms  a  tube  round   the 


NERVE    FIBRES.  17 

medullary  sheath.  It  is  a  thin,  tough,  homogeneous  membrane, 
with  nuclei  placed  at  intervals  along  its  inner  surface.  These 
nuclei,  which  occur  between  the  nodes  of  Kanvier,  are  probably 
concerned  in  the  development  of  medullated  from  non-medullated 
fibres  (Eoss).  The  primitive  sheath  is  not  present  in  the 
nerve  fibres  of  the  brain  and  spinal  cord  :  those  fibres  are  sur- 
rounded by  the  medullary  sheath  alone.  At  the  peripheral 
distribution  of  the  nerve,  neither  the  medullary  nor  the  primitive 
sheath  is  present  ;  here  the  axis-cylinder  branches  into  its 
ultimate  fibrils,  and  these  have  no  sheath. 

In  size,  medullated  fibres  vary.  Physiologists  divide  them 
into  large-medullated  and  small-medullated.  As  in  the  case  of 
nerve  cells,  the  difference  in  size  is  probably  correlative  with  a 
difference  in  function.* 

Non-medullated  nerve  fibres. — The  non-medullated  or  grey 
fibres  are  found  in  the  branches  of  the  sympathetic  system  and 
along  with  medullated  fibres  in  the  cerebro-spinal  nerv^e  cords. 
They  form  the  gi'eat  mass  of  the  sympathetic  system. 

The  non-medullated  fibres  are  pale,  faintly  striated  and 
nucleated  at  frequent  intervals.  The  nuclei  are  held  by  some  to 
belong  to  a  delicate  sheath,  corresponding  to  the  primitive  sheath 
of  the  medullated  nerve  fibre.  Unlike  medullated  nerve  fibres, 
the  non-medullated  fibres  branch  and  unite  with  other  fibres. 
There  is  no  medullary  sheath. 

Nerves. 

The  nerve  cords  or  nerves,  which  to  the  naked  eye  are 
white  tissue  cords  varying  in  size  from  -^^  inch,  or  less,  to  half 
an  inch,  are  collections  of  medullated  fibres,  of  non-medullated 
fibres,  or  of  both.  The  fibres,  surrounded  by  delicate  connective 
tissue  [endoneurium)  and  supported  by  it,  are  collected  into 
fioiiculi  or  small  gi-oups ;    and  each  funiculus  is  surrounded  by 

*  '  The  qualit3'of  its  action  as  well  as  the  size  of  the  muscle  fib'rc  appears 
to  iufluence  the  size  of  the  nerve.  The  fibres  going  to  the  slowly-acting  red 
muscles  of  the  rabbit  are  smaller  than  the  fibres  supplying  the  more  highly 
differentiated  white  muscles.  Spinal  motor  and  sensory  fibres  reach  a  diameter 
of  about  20fi.  (micromillimetres)  in  the  dog  (Gaskell).  ]Medullated  sympa- 
thetic fibres  are  usually  from  2/x.  to  2-5fx.  in  diameter'  (Hill  in  Obersteiner, 
0]).  cif.,  p.  116). 

2 


18 


THE    XERVOrS    SYSTEM. 


connective  tissue  {perineuriinn).  The  funiculi,  which  vary  in  size, 
are  in  turn  collected  into  larger  gi-oups,  similarly  supported  and 
surrounded  by  connective  tissue.  These  gi'oups,  wrapped  in  a 
niembranoiis  coat,  more  or  less  fibrous  in  structure,  constitute  a 


Fig.  4. 


Section  of  the  internal  saphenous  nerve  (human),  made  after  being  stained 
in  osmic  acid  and  subsequently  hardened  iu  alcohol.  Drawn  as  seen  under  a 
very  low  magnifying  power  (E.  A.  S.)  (Quaiu's  Anatomy). 

Ep,  epineurium,  or  general  sheath  of  the  ner\'e,  consisting  of  connective 
tissue  bundles  of  variable  size  separated  by  cleft-like  areolse,  which  appear  as 
a  network  of  clear  lines,  with  here  and  there  fat  cells//,  and  blood-vessels  v: 
jjer,  funiculus  enclosed  in  its  lamellated  connective  tissue  sheath  (perineurium) ; 
cad,  interior  of  funiculus,  showing  the  cut  ends  of  the  medullated  ner\-e  fibres, 
which  are  embedded  in  the  connective  tissue  within  the  funiculus  (endon- 
eurium).  The  fat  cells  and  the  nen'e  fibres  are  darkly  stained  by  the  osmic 
acid,  but  the  connective  tissue  of  the  nerve  is  only  slightly  stained. 


nerve  cord  or  nerve.  The  nerves  and  their  funiculi  Ijranch  and 
unite  with  each  other  in  every  variety,  producing  thus,  in  several 
regions,  a  special  plexus,  e.g.,  the  brachial  or  lumbar  ;  but  in- 


NERVE    GANGLIA.  19 

dividual  medullated  fibres,  however  often  they  pass  from  one 
funicuhis  to  another  in  tlie  same  or  another  nerve  cord,  never 
unite  with  other  medullated  fibres,  and  never  branch  except  at 
their  peripheral  distribution.  At  the  central  end,  the  fibres  of  the 
nerves  join  the  grey  matter  of  the  nerve  centres;  at  the  peripheral 
end,  they  join  the  end  organs  of  muscle,  of  skin,  of  the  viscera,  and 
of  the  special  senses.  Thus,  through  the  nerves,  there  is  complete 
continuity  of  connexion  between  the  cei'ebro- spinal  axis  and  every 
organ  and  region  of  the  body  (Fig.  4). 

Nerve  ganglia.  The  nerve  ganglia  may  be  arranged  into  three 
great  classes — the  Spinal  Gangha,  which  are  small  swellings  on 
the  posterior  or  sensory  roots  of  the  spinal  nerves ;  the  Sympa- 
thetic Ganglia,  which  form  two  chains  that  run  outside  the  spina 
column  from  top  to  bottom,  and,  last,  the  ganglia  of  special  nerves 
— as  the  Gasserian  Ganglion  (fifth  cranial  nerve),  the  Sublingual  and 
numerous  others.  All  these  are  essentially  groups  of  nerve  cells 
embedded  in  connective  tissue,  and  everywhere  have  branch  con- 
nexions with  the  cerebro-spinal  and  sympathetic  systems.  They 
cannot  be  regarded  as  nerve  centres  proper ;  they  probably  serve 
solely  for  multiplying  nerve  paths  and  for  the  nutrition  of  nerve 
fibres. 

So  far  we  have  regarded  the  anatomical  nerve  elements  in 
isolation.  We  shall  now  consider  them  as  they  combine  to  form 
the  enormous  complications  of  the  Nervous  System — the  Cerebro- 
spinal Axis,  the  Sympathetic  Ganglion  chains,  and  the  Nerve 
Cords  reaching  to  all  parts  of  the  organism. 

For  the  purposes  of  description,  the  Cerebro- Spinal  Axis  is 
divided  into  the  following  parts :  the  Spinal  Cord,  the  Medulla 
Oblongata,  the  Pons  Yarohi,  the  Cerebellum  and  the  Cerebrum. 
Of  these  the  first  alone  occupies  the  Vertebral  Canal ;  the  others 
lie  within  the  Skull.  Everywhere  in  their  bony  case  the  various 
structures  are  invested  by  three  membranous  sheaths  of  connec- 
tive tissue  :  first,  the  Dura  Mater,  which  lines  the  bony  cavity  : 
second,  the  Pia  Mater,  which  du-ectl}'' covers  the  nervous  matter, 
and  everywhere  sends  inward  processes  that  to  a  certain  extent 
form  a  supporting  framework,  and  at  the  same  time  are  a  high- 
way for  the  innumerable  blood-vessels ;  third,  the  Arachnoid, 
which  lies  between  Pia  and  Dura,  forming,  with  the  Pia,  the  sub- 


20  THE    NEEVOUS    SYSTEM. 

arachnoid  spaces,  and,  with  the  Dura,  the  sub-dural  spaces. 
These  spaces  are,  by  a  special  opening,  continuous  with  the  ven- 
tricles of  the  brain,  which,  again,  are  continuous  with  the  central 
canal  of  the  Spinal  Cord.  The  Canal,  the  Ventricles  and  the 
Spaces  are  filled  with  a  serous  liquid,  which  acts  as  an  internal 
and  external  pressure-cushion  for  the  semi-fluid  and  ever-yield- 
ing contents  of  the  skull  and  vertebral  column.  The  volume 
of  the  brain  varies  with  every  variation  of  the  blood  supply. 
When  the  volume  increases,  the  amount  of  serous  liquid  within 
the  skull  grows  less,  thus  relieving  pressure  ;  when  the  volume 
lessens,  the  amount  of  serous  liquid  increases,  thus  restoring  pres- 
sure. In  this  way  the  delicate  structures  of  the  brain  are  secured 
against  the  destructive  effects  of  sudden  variations  of  pressure 
within  the  skull. 

The  Spinal  Cord. 

The  Spinal  Cord  is  essentially  a  colunm  of  Grey  Matter  em- 
bedded in  a  column  of  white,  the  grey  so  disposing  itself  in  the 
white  as  to  exhibit,  in  transverse  section,  an  irregular  grey  cres- 
cent in  each  lateral  half  of  the  cord.  The  two  crescents — their 
convexities  being  towards  the  centre  of  the  cord — are  united  by  a 
grey  commissure,  which  contains  the  central  canal.  Each  crescent, 
which  is  somewhat  '  comma-shaped '  (Foster),  has  an  Anterior 
Horn,  giving  origin  to  the  Anterior  (Motor,  Efferent,  or  Centri- 
fugal) Eoot  of  the  Spinal  Nerve  issuing  at  that  part ;  and  a 
Posterior  Horn,  which  receives  at  least  part  of  the  fibres  from 
the  Posterior  (Sensory,  Afferent,  or  Centripetal)  Eoot  of  the  same 
nerve.  The  Posterior  Eoot  has  a  small  swelling  or  Ganglion — these 
ganglia  being,  according  to  some  authorities,  the  true  origin  of 
the  posterior  fibres  ;  which  thus  are  a  junction  between  ganglion 
and  spinal  grey  matter  (Obersteiner :  Anatomy  of  Central 
Nervous  Organs,  p.  32).  The  two  nerve  roots  unite  to  fonii  the 
Spinal  Nerve  proper,  which  is  thus  a  compound  structure. 

The  White  Matter,  thus  broken  up  by  the  grey,  forms  the 
rest  of  the  cord  ;  the  sub-divisions  due,  in  each  lateral  half,  to  the 
crescent  of  grey  being  named  respectively  Antero-lateral,  Postero- 
lateral, and  Lateral  White  Columns.  Farther,  the  two  lateral 
halves  of  the  cord  are  united  by  the  White  Commissure  (see 
Fig.  5).     The  transverse  section  of  the  cord  is  thus  two  semi- 


THE    SPINAL    CORD. 


21 


circular  white  and  grey  masses,  united  by  a  narrow  isthmus  of 
white  and  grey  ;  the  indentations  leading  to  the  isthmus  being  the 
Anterior  and  Posterior  Fissures. 

The  microscopic  constituents  of  the  Cord  are  briefly  these  : — 

First,  the  White  Matter  consists  of  large  and  small  medullated 

nerve  fibres,  so  embedded  in  neuroglia  that  each  fibre  has  a  canal 

precisely  fitted  to  it  ;  the  neuroglia  constituting,  along  with  the 

<;onnective  tissue  from  the  pia  viater,  a  large  part  of  the  cord. 

Fig.  5. 


Spinal  Cord  (Quaiii). — In  a  the  anterior  surface  of  the  cord  is  shown,  the 
anterior  nerve  root  being  divided  on  the  right.  In  b  a  transverse  section  of 
the  cord  is  exhibited,  showing  the  crescentic  shape  of  tlie  grey  matter  in  the 
interior.  1,  the  anterior  median  fissure.  2,  posterior  median  fissure.  3, 
anterior  lateral  depression  over  which  the  anterior  nerve  roots  are  seen  to 
spread.  4,  posterior  lateral  groove  into  which  the  posterior  roots  are  seen 
to  sink. 

The  anterior  column  is  included  between  1  and  3 ;  the  lateral  column 
between  3  and  4  ;  and  the  posterior  column  between  4  and  2. 

5,  The  anterior  root.  5'  in  A  =  the  anterior  root  divided.  6,  the  posterior 
roots,  the  fibres  of  which  pass  into  the  ganglion  6'.  7,  the  united  or  com- 
pound nerve. 

These  nerve  fibres  run,  in  part,  transversely,  passing  into  and  out 
of  the  grey  matter,  or  from  one  side  of  the  cord  to  the  other  ;  in 
part  longitudinally,  passing  into  the  grey  matter  higher  up,  forming 
continuous  white  tracts  along  the  whole  length  of  the  cord. 
Through  these  white  columns,  which  are  sub-divisible  into 
functional  groups,  the  segments  of  the  cord  are  connected  witli 
one  another,  and  with  the  higher  centres  in  the  skull. 


22  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

Second,  the  Grey  Matter,  its  elements  likewise  embedded  in 
neuroglia,  contains  large  nerve  cells  (Fig.  6),  certain  smaller 
nerve  cells,  fine  medullated  nerve  fibres,  naked  axis-cylinders,  and 
certain  non-niedullated  nerve  filaments  that  are  either  divided 
axis-cylinders  or  branching  processes  of  the  cells.  The  '  fine 
medullated  '  nerve  fibres  and  the  other  fine  filaments  form  an 
'  interlacement  of  extreme  complexity  '  (Foster).  Whether  the 
fine  filaments  or  branching  cell  processes  are  continuous  or  only 
in  juxtaposition  is  yet  doubtful ;  but,  in  either  case,  the  grey 
matter  is  practically  a  continuous  mass  from  end  to  end  of  the 
cord,  and  thus  provides  in  its  complexity  a  mechanism  correspond- 
ing to  the  immense  range  and  variety  of  nerve  activities. 

The  cord  gives  origin  to  thirty-one  pairs  of  nerves — the  Spinal 
Nerves — which  pass  symmetrically  from  the  right  and  left.  Each 
nerve,  made  up  from  the  two  roots  (Anterior  and  Posterior)  al- 
ready described,  and  carrying  wath  it  branches  from  the  neigh- 
bouring sympathetic  ganglion,  passes  to  some  definite  region  of  the 
body.  Thus  from  the  cervical  region  of  the  cord,  several  pairs  of 
nerves  pass  to  the  arms  ;  from  the  dorsal  region,  several  pairs 
pass  to  the  skin  and  muscles  of  the  chest ;  from  the  lumbar 
region,  several  pairs  pass  to  the  lower  extremities.  Similarly 
special  nerves  pass  to  the  organs  of  the  abdomen  and  pelvis.  In 
this  way  from  the  spinal  cord  directly,  from  spinal  branches  pass- 
ing through  sympathetic  ganglia  or  from  sympathetic  ganglia 
directly,  nerve  cords  pass  to  supply  all  the  main  parts  of  the  body 
— the  skin,  the  nuiscles,  the  blood-vessels,  the  joints  and  the 
complicated  viscera  of  pelvis  and  abdomen  (see  Fig.  1). 

The  Functional  Tracts  or  sub-divisions  of  the  spinal  w4iite 
matter  have  been  ascertained  chiefly  by  three  methods  :  first, 
developmental ;  second,  experimental ;  third,  pathological.  In 
the  process  of  growth,  the  nerve  fibres  of  the  white  matter 
do  not  all  receive  their  medullary  sheath  at  the  same  time, 
and  the  appearance  of  the  medullary  sheath  in  the  difi'erent 
parts  of  the  cord  always  follows  a  definite  order.  By  observ- 
ing this  order,  Flechsig  was  able  to  sub-divide  the  cord  into 
a  number  of  columns.  Thus  the  external  part  of  the  anterior 
column  had  its  fibres  completed  earlier  than  the  internal 
part,  and  so  on.  These  results  were  confirmed  and  inter- 
preted  by  the  methods  of  experiment   and  pathology.       When 


FUNCTIONAL  TKACTS  OF  THE  CORD. 


23 


certain  parts  of  the  brain  are  removed  or  sections  made  of  the 
Uving  cord,  degenerations  occur  along  certain  tracts  of  the  cord  ; 
and  similarly,  pathological  changes,  occurring  in  paralysis  or  other 
nervous  affections,  follow  certain  definite  tracts.  The  tracts  of 
degeneration  in  both  cases  correspond  with  the  tracts  of  Flechsig, 


Fig.  6. 


Diagram  of  transverse  section  of  the  Spinal  Cord  in  up^Der  lialf  of  the 
dorsal  region  (after  Plechsig). 

C,  Anterior  commissure,  rft',  Fibres  which  pass  from  the  vesicular 
column  of  Clarke  (ir)  to  the  direct  cerebellar  tract.     F,  Posterior  horn. 

Figs.  6  and  10.  Letters  common  to  both  : — Ft,  Pyramidal  tract  of  the 
lateral  column.  7',  Columns  of  Tiirck.  dr.  Direct  cerebellar  tract,  ar. 
Internal  portion  of  the  anterior  root-zone.  ar' ,  External  portion  of  the 
anterior  root-zone.  fi\  Posterior  root-zone.  G,  GoU's  columns.  //•,  Reticular 
formation  of  the  spinal  cord,     a,  Anterior  grey  horns  of  the  spinal  cord. 


and,  by  careful  collation  of  the  results  of  all  three  methods, 
physiologists  are  now  able  to  sub-divide  the  white  matter  of  the 
cord  into  several  well-defined  columns  (see  Fig.  6).  The  main 
functional  tracts  are  as  follows  : — 


24  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

I.  Descending  Tracts. 

A.  Direct  Pyramidal  Tract — lying  in  antero-lateral  white 

column. 

B.  Crossed   Pyramidal   Tract — lying   in    lateral    white 

column. 

C.  Antero-lateral  descending — lying  in   anterior  lateral 

white  column. 

D.  Descending  'Comma'  Tract — lying  in  postero-lateral 

white  column. 

II.  Ascending  Tracts. 

A.  Direct  Cerebellar  Tract — lying  in  posterior  part  of 

lateral  white  column. 

B.  Median  Posterior   Tract- — connected   with   posterior 

nerve  root. 

C.  Ascending  Antero-lateral  Tract — adjoining  descending 

tract  of  same  name. 

III.  Tracts  yet  Undetermined  as  Ascotding  or  Descending. 
This  forms  remainder  of  w^hite  matter  (Fig.  6). 

The  details  of  these  system  columns  concern  special  treatises 
on  physiology.  It  is  here  enough  to  say  that  all  the  defined 
functional  groups  of  fibres  can  be  subsumed  under  two  main 
groups  :  first,  Descending  Fibres,  affording  a  channel  for  outgoing 
or  centrifugal  impulses  from  the  cortex  of  the  cerebrum  and  other 
higher  centres ;  second,  Ascending  Fibres,  affording  a  channel  for 
all  incoming,  centripetal  impulses  on  their  way  from  the  end 
organs  to  the  higher  centres. 

'  Thus,  as  far  as  we  can  see  at  present,  the  spinal  cord  consists  of  a 
series  of  segmental  mechanisms  with  their  respective  afferent  and  efferent 
roots  (the  grey  matter  of  the  several  segments  being  continuous  along 
the  cord)  of  encephalic  ties  of  white  matter  between  the  several  segments 
and  the  brain,  of  longitudinal  commissural  tracts  connecting  together 
the  several  segmental  mechanisms,  and  of  transverse  commissures 
running  lai'gely  in  the  grey  matter '  (Foster's  Physiology,  5th  ed, 
p.  901.) 

The  Medulla  Oblongata. 

At  the  margin  of  the  Foramen  Magnum,  the  gi'eat  opening 
between    the   vertebral  canal    and   the    skull,    the    Spinal    Cord 


THE    MEDULLA   OBLONGATA.  25 

becomes  the  Medulla  Oblongata.  In  shape  the  Medulla,  which  is 
limited  above  by  the  Pons  Varolii,  is  somewhat  like  a  cone  with 
the  base  upward.  It  is  an  inch  and  a  quarter  long,  about  an  inch 
broad  at  its  widest  part,  half  an  inch  at  its  narrowest,  and  in 
thickness  from  before  backwards  about  half_|an  inch  (Fig.  7). 

The  Medulla  is,  in  the  first  place,  a  grand  crossing  for  fibres 
passing  between  the  Cord  and  the  higher  centres.  On  the  surface, 
the  anterior  and  lateral  white  columns  of  the  Cord  become  the 
anterior  pyramid  and  lateral  tract  respectively ;  the  posterior 
white  column  dividing  to  form  the  restiform  body  and  j^osterior 
'py7-amid.  An  additional  small  mass — the  olivary  body— lies  on 
the  lateral  tract.  In  the  depth,  however,  the  anterior  pyramid  is 
found  to  draw  fibres  from  two  main  sources  :  first,  from  the 
anterior  white  column — direct  pyramidal  tract ;  second,  from  the 
lateral  column  of  the  opposite  side — the  crossed  pyramidal  tract 
(sec.  10).  The  crossing  of  fibres  so  involved  is  the  decussation  of 
the  pyraviids.  Of  the  fissures  of  the  Cord,  the  anterior  median 
■ends  blindly  at  the  Pons  ;  the  posterior  median  opens  out  to  form 
the  Fourth  Ventricle,  which  is  thus  bounded  at  its  lower  pai't  by 
the  posterior  pyramids.  At  parts  corresponding  to  the  altered 
position  of  the  other  fissures,  nerve  roots  issue  as  in  the  Cord. 

The  Medulla  is,  in  the  second  place,  a  collection  of  centres, 
that  is,  of  special  masses  of  grey  matter.  By  the  changes  in  the 
\vhite  matter  the  grey  matter  of  the  Cord  is  redistributed,  and 
broken  up  into  masses  more  or  less  isolated^grrey  nuclei.  Besides 
those  naturally  thus  arising,  many  other  nuclei  are  added,  chiefly 
in  the  floor  of  the  fourth  ventricle.  These  nuclei  constitute  the 
proximate  origin  of  many  cranial  nerves,  of  which  some  cor- 
respond singly  to  the  anterior  or  motor  root  of  a  spinal  nerve, 
some  to  the  posterior  or  sensory  root,  and  some  to  both  roots. 
The  gi'eater  number  of  the  cranial  nerves  have  their  proximate 
origin  in  the  Medulla. 

Through  the  Medulla  the  System  Columns  or  Tracts  of  the 
Cord,  after  the  changes  described,  pass  towards  the  higher  centres. 
The  direct  pyramidal  tract,  the  crossed  pyramidal  tract,  and  the 
antero-external  tract,  pass  directly  through  the  Pons  Varolii  to 
the  Cerebrum.  The  postero-internal  tract  passes  partly  to  the 
^rey  matter  of  -the  Fourth  Ventricle,  partly  to  the  Cerebrum. 
The  postero-external  tract  and  direct  cerebellar  tract  pass  by  the 


26  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

restiform  body  to  the  Cerebellum.  The  posterior  radicular  zone 
and  the  remaining  tracts  of  the  lateral  white  column,  pass  to  the 
Corpora  Quadrigemina  and  Optic  Thalami.  Thus  the  Spinal 
Cord  in  all  its  parts,  in  its  grey  matter  no  less  than  in  its  white,, 
passes  into  connexion,  direct  or  indirect,  with  all  the  great 
collections  of  grey  and  white  matter  in  the  higher  nerve  centres — 
with  the  middle  brain,  the  basal  ganglia,  with  the  cerebellum,, 
and,  finally,  with  the  cerebrum. 

The  Pons  Varolii. 

Next  above  the  Medulla  Oblongata  lies  the  Pons  Varolii.  In 
front,  it  rests  upon  the  base  of  the  skull  ;  behind,  it  forms  part  of 
the  floor  of  the  Fourth  Ventricle,  and,  at  its  upper  part,  it  forms- 
the  anterior  wall  of  the  Aqueduct  of  Sylvius — the  channel  that 
connects  the  fourth  with  the  other  ventricles  of  the  brain  ;  above ,^^ 
it  overlies  the  Peduncles  or  Crura  of  the  Cerebrum. 

The  Pons,  like  the  Medulla,  is  at  once  a  grand  crossing  and  a 
collection,  of  grey  centres.  The  fibres  are  transverse  and  longi- 
tudinal. The  transverse  fibres,  divided  further  into  superficial 
and  deep,  connect  the  hemispheres  of  the  Cerebellum,  constituting 
the  middle  cerehellar  peduncles.  The  longitudinal  fibres,  likewise 
superficial  and  deep,  are  the  upward  continuations  of  the  fibres 
that  pass  from  the  Medulla  to  the  Cerebrum.  These,  probably 
reinforced  by  others  from  the  Pons  itself,  constitute,  beyond  the 
Pons,  the  Cerebral  Peduncles.  Some  fibres  decussate  in  the  Pons. 
Among  the  fibres  everywhere  lie  masses  of  grey  matter,  which 
give  origin  to  some  roots  of  cranial  nerves  (see  Fig.  7). 

The  microscopic  structure  both  of  Medulla  and  Pons  presents. 
no  marked  difference  from  the  structure  of  the  Spinal  Cord.  The 
grey  matter  is  distributed  according  to  a  more  complex  system. 

The  Cekebellum. 

The  Cerebellum,  or  lesser  brain,  rests  on  the  posterior  part  of 
the  base  of  the  skull.  In  front  of  it  lie  the  Medulla  and  the  Pons. 
Lying  above  it,  and  separated  from  it  by  dura  mater,  are  the 
occipital  lobes  of  the  Cerebrum. 

The  Cerebellum,  many  times  the  size  of  the  Medulla  Oblongata, 
and  larger  than  Pons  and  Medulla  together,  is  a  complicated  mass 
of  grey  and  white  matter.     It  is  divided  into  Jiemisjjheres,  right 


THE    CEEEBELLUM. 


27 


Fig.  7. 

View  from  before 
of  the  medulla  ob- 
longata, pons  varolii, 
crura  cerebri,  and 
other  central  por- 
tions of  the  encepha- 
lon  (Allen  Thomson). 
Natural  size. 

On  the  right  side 
the  convolutions  of 
the  central  lobe  or 
island  of  Reil  have 
been  left,  together 
with  a  small  part  of 
the  anterior  cerebral 
convolutions :  on  the 
left  side  these  have 
been  removed  by  an 
incision  carried  be- 
tween the  thalamus 
opticus  and  the  cere- 
bral hemisphere. 

I',  the  olfactory 
tract  cut  short  and 
Ij'ing  in  its  groove ; 
II,  the  left  optic 
nerve  in  front  of  the 
commissure ;  II',  the 
right  optic  tract ;  Tit , 
cut  surface  of  the  left 
thalamus  opticus ;  C, 
the  central  lobe  or 
island  of  lieil ;  Sy. 
fissure  of  Sylvius  ;  x 
X  ,  anterior  perfor- 
ated space  ;  e,  the  external,  and  /,  the  internal  corpus  geniculatum  ;  A.  the 
hypophysis  cerebri  or  pituitary  body ;  tc,  tuber  cinereum  with  the  infundi- 
bulum ;  a,  one  of  the  corpora  albicantia;  P,  the  cerebral  peduncle  or  crus  ; 
/,  the  fillet  ;  III,  close  to  the  left  oculo-motor  nerve :  x  ,  the  posterior 
perforated  space. 

The  following  letters  and  numbers  refer  to  parts  in  connexion  with  the 
medulla  oblongata  and  pons.  PV,  pons  Varolii ;  T,  the  greater  root  of  the 
fifth  nerve  ;  + ,  the  lesser  or  motor  root ;  FI,  the  sixth  nerve  ;  J''IJ,  the  facial ; 
Fill,  the  auditory  nerve ;  IX,  the  glossopharyngeal ;  A',  the  pneumogastric 
nerve;  XI,  the  spinal  accessory  nerve ;  XII,  the  hypoglossal  nerve:  CI,  the 
suboccipital  or  first  cervical  nerve  ;  pa,  pyramid  ;  o,  olive  ;  d,  anterior  median 
fissure  of  the  spinal  cord,  above  which  the  decussation  of  the  pyramids  is 
represented;  c^,  anterior  column  of  cord;  /■,  lateral  tract  of  medulla  con- 
tinuous with,  (7,  the  lateral  column  of  tiie  spinal  cord. 


28  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

and  left ;  each  hemisphere  is  divided  into  lobes,  and  each  lobe 
into  lamiuce.  The  lobes  and  laminae  of  one  hemisphere  corre- 
spond with  those  of  the  other,  and  unite  with  them,  partly  by 
the  Pons,  and  partly  by  other  commissures.  The  bi-lateral  charac- 
ter of  the  nervous  system,  seen  in  its  simplest  form  in  the  cord 
and  Medulla,  is  thus  visible  also  in  the  Cerebellum. 

A  hemisphere  on  section  exhibits  a  peculiar  arrangement  of 
grey  matter  and  white.  Round  the  margin  there  is  a  wavy  and 
arborescent  layer  of  grey  matter,  corresponding  to  the  laminae. 
Within  the  gi'ey,  lies  a  large  mass  of  white  matter  similarly 
arranged  ;  wdthin  this  again  lies  a  layer  of  gi'ey  matter,  which,  in 
turn,  contains  a  mass  of  white.  Each  lamina  thus  becomes  a 
layer  of  white  matter  caught  between  two  layers  of  grey.  The 
Cerebellar  laminae  correspond  to  the  Cerebral  convolutions  :  both 
of  them  secure  great  surface  with  little  bulk. 

The  white  matter  passes  from  the  hemispheres  in  three  main 
bundles  :  the  siqjerior  peduncle  passes  partly  to  the  Corpora 
Quadi'igemina,  and  partly  by  the  cerebral  peduncles  to  the  Cere- 
brum ;  the  middle  peduncle,  uniting  the  two  hemispheres,  forms 
the  transverse  fibres  of  the  Pons  ;  the  inferior  peduncle  passes 
downw^ards  to  the  Medulla,  where  it  becomes  the  restiform  iDody. 

Microscopic  Structure  of  Cerebellum. 

In  the  grey  matter  of  the  Cerebellum  the  microscope  reveals 
three  layers  :  first,  a  mcAecular  layer,  near  the  surface  ;  next,  a 
nuclear  layer,  bordering  the  central  white  matter,  and,  lastly, 
between  the  molecular  and  nuclear  layers,  a  third  layer — Pur- 
kiitje's  Cells.  The  molecular  layer  is  made  up  of  very  small  cells, 
some  nervous,  others  neuroglial  in  nature  ;  and  of  minute  fibrils, 
which  are,  in  part,  the  branchings  of  Purkinje's  cells.  The 
nuclear  layer  shows  a  fine  fibrillar  groundwork  and  innumer- 
able nuclei,  probably,  in  part  at  least,  nuclei  of  nerve  cells.  The 
third  layer — Purkinjd's  cells — is  made  up  of  a  single  row  of  large, 
flask-shaped,  markedly-nucleated  cells,  which  connect  themselves 
l)y  a  large  process  (an  axis-cylinder)  with  the  central  white 
matter,  and  send  many  branching  processes  into  the  molecular 
layer.  The  precise  inter-connexions  of  these  three  complex 
layers  is  a  matter  yet  to  define.  It  is  enough  to  say  generally 
that,  from  its  cells,  the  molecular  layer  sends  processes  inwards, 


THE    CEREBRUM.  29 

probably  to  join  the  central  white  matter  ;  next,  that  from  its 
cells  the  nuclear  layer  sends  processes  outwards  to  ramify  in  the 
molecular  layer ;  and,  lastly,  that  the  cells  of  Purkinje  send 
inwards  a  main  process  to  join  the  white  matter,  and  outwards  a 
vast  number  of  branching  processes  to  ramify  in  the  molecular 
layer.  Whether  the  various  fibrils  of  the  three  layers  are  in 
anatomical  continuity  with  each  other,  and  with  the  white  matter, 
is  uncertain,  but  for  functional  continuity  their  mere  contact  or 
inter-proximity  is  enough. 

The  white  matter,  like  white  matter  elsewhere,  consists  of 
medullated  nerve  fibres,  which  serve  in  part  for  incoming,  in  part 
for  outgoing,  nervous  impulses.  '  The  presumption,  therefore, 
is,  that  all  the  fibres  of  the  white  matter  begin  or  end  either 
in  the  cells  of  Purkinje,  or  the  fibrils  of  the  molecular  layer  " 
(Foster,   Phys.,   5th  ed.,  p.    1024). 

It  is  noteworthy  that  the  cerebellar  grey  matter  shows  in  its 
minute  structure  no  such  local  and  -convolutional  variations  as  the 
cerebral  grey  matter  does  ;  the  cerebellum  thus  presenting  no 
gi'oss  anatomical  basis  for  local  variations  in  fvmction. 

The  Nervous  System  is  now  growing  in  complexity.  The  grey 
matter,  equally  with  the  white,  is  greater  in  bulk,  and  more  intri- 
cate in  arrangement  ;  the  cells  are  more  numerous,  more  varied 
in  form,  and  richer  in  connexions  ;  the  fibres  fall  in  greater 
masses,  and  pass  in  larger  bundles  to  form  greater  and  more 
numerous  commissures.  The  whole  architecture  of  the  system 
is  more  imposing  ;  and  if  from  structure  and  disposition  of  parts 
alone  we  could  venture  to  forecast  functions,  we  should  say  that, 
in  comparison  of  the  spinal  cord  and  medulla,  the  Cerebellum 
will  be  a  generator  of  greater  energies,  a  receiver  of  impressions 
more  numerous  and  more  varied,  probably  concerned  in  more 
complex  activities,   and  probably  a  centre  of  control. 

The  Cekebrum. 

The  progress  of  research  in  the  localisation  of  brain  function, 
makes  it  advisable  to  describe  the  parts  of  the  Cerebrum  with 
some  minuteness.  The  cerebral  convolutions,  long  beyond  the 
reach  of  experimental  physiology,  have  at  length  begun  to  jaeld 
up  their  secret,  and  every  year  is  adding  largely  to  the  detailed 
knowledge  of  their  functions. 


30  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

The  Cerebrum  fills  the  greater  part  of  the  skull  cavity.  The 
anterior  two-thirds  rests  on  the  base  of  the  skull ;  the  posterior 
third  overlies  the  cerebellum.  From  the  Cerebrum  at  its  under 
surface  the  cranial  nerves  pass  to  their  distribution  through  the 
numerous  openings  of  the  skull,  and  the  crura  cerebri,  or  cerebral 
peduncles  pass  downwards  to  become  the  longitudinal  bundles  of 
the  Pons.  On  the  upper  surface,  the  Cerebrum  is  rounded, 
taking  the  general  shape  of  the  skull ;  and,  regarded  from  above, 
it  is  a,  mass  more  or  less  oval,  with  the  greatest  breadth  opposite 
the  parietal  eminences.  The  whole  Cerebrum  is  kept  in  position 
by  membranes. 

One  gvQdX  fissure  divides  the  Cerebrum  into  hemispheres,  right 
and  left  ;  other  fissures  divide  each  hemisphere  into  four  main 
lohes — frontal,  parietal,  occipital,  temporal ;  minor  fissures  or 
sulci,  divide  the  lobes  into  convolutions,  which  take  their  names 
from  the  lobes  they  belong  to. 

The  following  is  an  account  of  the  main  Fissures  : — 

The  great  Longitudinal  Fissure,  corresponding  to  a  line  drawn 
on  the  skull  from  the  root  of  the  nose  to  the  occiput,  separates 
the  hemispheres  completely,  except  at  the  middle  two-thirds, 
where  the  corjnis  callosum,  and  other  commissures  form  an  inter- 
hemispherical  isthmus.  The  corpus  callosum,  lying  in  the  depth 
of  the  fissure,  one  can  reveal  by  pushing  the  hemispheres  apart. 
On  the  apposed  sides  of  the  hemispheres  lie  convolutions  of  some 
importance  ;  part  of  these,  experiment  has  connected  with  move- 
ment of  the  trunk  muscle-groups. 

The  Fissure  of  Sylvius,  corresponding  to  a  skull-line  drawn 
from  one  inch  behind  the  external  angle  of  the  frontal  bone  to  a 
point  a  little  below  the  parietal  prominence,  separates  the  frontal 
lobe  from  the  temporal.  By  drawing  apart  the  lips  of  this  fissure 
one  reveals  the  Island  of  Beil — an  important  part  in  affections  of 
speech  {Ap^iasia).  Near  this  lies  the  third  left  frontal  convolution 
or  convolution  of  Broca,  who  first  correlated  lesions  of  this  con- 
volution with  a  special  form  of  aphasia. 

The  Fissure  of  liolando,  corresponding  to  a  skull-line  drawn 
from  near  the  vertex  to  the  line  of  the  Sylvian  fissure,  separ- 
ates the  frontal  lobe  from  the  parietal.  The  convolutions  of  the 
■*  Eolandic  area,'  that  is,  those  lying  just  in  front  and  in  rear 
of  the  fissure,  contain  the  principal  '  motor  areas '  (Ferrier). 


CONVOLUTIONS    OF    THE    CEREBRAL    HEMISPHERES. 

Fig.  8—1. 
FRO    N_Ta    (. 


31 


LOBE 

'^al      lobe. 

Diagram  of  the  Oyri  (convolutions)  sulci  (Fissures),  on  the  lateral  surface  of  the 
Right  Hemisphere  of  Man  (Gowers). 

Fig.  H— 2. 

F.Tiolando 


TEMP 


^^' 


The  same  on  the  Mesial  Surface  (Gowers). 

In  both  figures,  the  sulci  are  indicated  by  italic  and  the  convolutions  by 
roman  type. 

The  following  list  of  some  synonyms  may  perhaps  be  of  use  in  connexion 
with  these  figures. 

Gjjri,  or  Convolutions.  Precentral  or  anterior  central  =  ascending  frontal. 
Postcentral  or  posterior  centi-al  =  ascending  parietal.  Superior  temporal  =  infra- 
marginal  =  first  temporal.  Triangular  lobule  =  cuneus.  Central  lobe  =  Island  of 
Reil.  Paracentral  lobule  =  the  mesial  face  of  the  superior  frontal,  within  the 
marginal  gyrus.  Cingulum  =  the  part  of  the  gyrus  fornicatus  which  adjoins  the 
■corpus  callosum.  Gyrus  Hippocampi  =  uncinate  gyrus,  though  the  latter  name 
is  sometimes  restricted  to  the  front  part  of  the  hippocampal  gyrus  ;  the  two  may 
be  considered  as  a  continuation  of  the  gyrus  fornicatus,  and  the  three  together, 
forming  a  series,  have  been  called  '  the  great  limbic  lobe  '. 

Sulci  or  Fissures.  Central  =  Rolandic,  or  of  Rolando.  Perpendicular  = 
parieto-occipital.     Parietal  =  in traparietal  or  sometimes  interparietal. 

Temporo-sphenoidal  lobe  =  temporal  lobe. 


32  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

The  following  are  the  main  Lobes  with  their  Convolutions  : — 

The  Frontal  Lobe,  lying  in  front  of  the  fissure  of  Rolando,  has- 
four  main  convolutions  on  the  upper  surface  :  the  ascending 
frontal,  just  in  front  of  the  Rolandic  fissure  ;  the  first,  second,  and 
third  frontals,  extending  forwards  at  right  angles  to  the  ascending. 
On  the  under  surface  there  is  a  further  unimportant  division  and 
a  sulcus  accommodates  the  trunk  of  the  olfactory  nerve. 

The  Parietal  Lobe,  lying  just  in  rear  of  the  Eolandic  fissure,. 
has  three  main  convolutions  :  the  ascending  parietal,  like  the 
ascending  frontal ;  the  upper  parietal  or  supra-marginal ;  the 
lower  parietal  or  angular. 

The  Temporal  Lobe,  lying  below  the  parietal,  is  di\'ided  hori- 
zontally into  five  convolutions,  numbered  from  above  downwards  ; 
first  temporal,  second  temporal,  and  so  on. 

The  Occipital  Lobe,  lying  behind  the  parietal,  has  three  con- 
volutions, numbered  from  above  downwards ;  first  occipital, 
second  occipital,   third  occipital. 

To  exhibit  the  remaining  convolutions,  it  is  necessary  to  push 
the  hemispheres  apart,  when,  on  the  apposed  surfaces,  there 
become  visible  the  calloso-marginal  fissure  ;  this  separates  the 
marginal  convolution  from  the  gyrus  fornicatiis ,  which  rests  on 
the  corpus  callosum.  Behind  these  are  the  quadrate  lobule  and 
the  cuneate  lobule,   with  fissures  corresponding. 

The  base  of  the  Cerebrum  (Fig.  7)  presents  certain  important 
structures — the  Cranial  or  Cerebral  Nerves.  '  The  deep  origin  or 
point  of  connexion  of  the  cranial  nerves  with  the  brain  is  still,  in 
some  instances,  a  matter  of  uncertainty.  It  seems  probable  that 
each  of  the  nerves  arises  from  some  special  centre  of  grey  matter, 
termed  a  nucleus  :  at  all  events,  many  of  them  can  be  traced  to 
such  special  nuclei,  through  which,  no  doubt,  they  are  connected 
with  other  portions  of  the  cerebral  mass '  (Gray's  Anatomy, 
10th  ed.,  p.  506).  These  nuclei  or  deep  origins  must  be  regarded 
as  of  two  orders  :  first,  proximate  ;  second,  cortical.  For  the 
cerebral  nerves  do,  for  the  most  part,  belong  to  two  orders  of 
mechanism  :  a  lower  order, — the  lesser  grey  centres,  that  is, 
the  basal  ganglia,  middle  brain  and  spinal  cord  ;  a  higher 
order,  greater  in  complexity,  and  less  defined  in  situation  than 
the  other — the  higher  grey  centres,  that  is,  the  convolutions  of 
the  cerebral  cortex.     As  parts  of  the  first  mechanism,  the  cerebral 


THE    CEREBRAL    NERVES.  33 

nerves  may  act  through  the  proximate  nuclei,  which  are  centres 
for  circumscribed  actions,  as  winking,  or  swallowing.  Such 
actions  will  be  reflex.  As  parts,  however,  of  the  second  mechan- 
ism, which  must  subsume  the  first,  the  cerebral  nerves  must  sub- 
serve all  the  activities  of  the  highest  centres  of  the  brain.  And 
the  normal  action  of  the  cerebral  nerves  involves  the  integrity 
ahke  of  the  proximate  and  of  the  cortical  nuclei.  Thus  the  Optic 
Nerve  is  traceable  not  only  to  proximate  nuclei  in  the  corpora 
quadrigemina,  but  to  all  the  main  lobes  of  the  cerebral  cortex  as 
well— a  striking  instance  of  the  large  anatomical  basis  required 
for  a  sense  of  such  vast  importance  to  the  organism. 

Orthe  Cerebral  Nerves  (Fig.  7)  there  are  twelve  pairs,  named 
in  order  as  follows :  First,  the  Olfactory,  or  nerve  of  Smell 
(sensory) ;  Second,  the  Optic,  or  nerve  of  Sight  (sensory) ;  Third, 
the  Oculo-motor,  which  gives  branches  (motor)  to  all  the  muscles 
that  move  the  eyeball,  except  two — the  superior  oblique  and  the 
external  rectus ;  Fourth,  the  Trochlear,  which  supplies  the 
superior  oblique  muscle  of  the  eye  (motor) ;  Fifth,  the  Trigeminal, 
which  has  two  roots — [a)  a  sensory  root,  passing  through  the 
Gasserian  ganglion  and  supplying  common  sensibility  to  the  face, 
the  fore  part  of  the  head,  the  eye,  the  nose,  the  ear,  the  mouth, 
the  larger  part  of  the  tongue,  which  last  may  possibly  have  some 
taste  fibres  from  the  same  root ;  (h)  a  motor  root,  which  supplies 
chiefly  the  muscles  of  mastication  ;  Sixth,  the  Abducent,  which 
supplies  the  external  rectus  muscle  of  the  eye  (motor) ;  Seventh, 
the  Facial,  which  is  the  '  principal  motor  nerve  of  the  head, 
supplying  all  the  superficial  and  several  of  the  deep  muscles  ' 
(Quain)  ;  Eighth,  the  Auditory,  or  nerve  of  hearing  (sensory) ; 
Ninth,  the  Glossopharyngeal  (sensory  and  motor),  which  is  (a) 
nerve  of  taste  for  the  posterior  third  of  the  tougue,  the  lateral 
part  of  the  soft  palate,  and  the  glossopalatine  arch  ;  (h)  nerve  of 
common  sensation  for  the  posterior  third  of  the  tongue  and  for 
parts  of  palate,  pharynx  and  epiglottis  ;  (c)  motor  nerve  for  some 
pharyngeal  muscles  ;  Tenth,  the  Vagus,  or  Pneumogastric,  which, 
with  its  enormous  number  of  branches,  sensory  and  motor  (some 
inhibitory),  is  the  channel  of  regulation  for  the  respiratory,  cir- 
culatory and  digestive  systems ;  Eleventh,  the  Spinal  Accessory, 
which  '  supplies  the  Vagus  with  most  of  its  motor  fibres  and 
also  its  cardio-inhibitory  fibres '  (Landois)  ;   Tivelfth,  the  Hvpo- 

3 


34  THE    NEEVOUS    SYSTEM. 

glossal,   which  is  the  motor  nerve  for  all   the   muscles  of   the 
tongue. 

Hitherto  we  have  confined  ourselves  to  the  surfaces  of  the 
Cerebrum.     We  now  advert  to  the  internal  structures. 

First :  The  cerebral  grey  matter  arranges  itself  in  two  great 
divisions — first,  the  cortical  grey  matter,  which  forms  a  covering 
of  fairly  constant  thickness  for  the  whole  surface  of  the  Cerebrum  ; 
second,  the  grey  matter  of  the  Basal  Ganglia  (Corpora  Striata 
and  Thalami  Optici),  the  Corpora  Quadrigemina,  the  Corpora 
Geniculata,  the  Pineal  Body,  the  grey  matter  of  the  Aqueduct 
and  several  other  masses  of  grey  matter  situated  variously 
about  the  base  and  the  ventricles.  Of  these,  the  chief  are 
the  Thalami  Optici,  and  the  Corpora  Striata.  Those  bodies  are 
in  pairs — the  Corpora  Striata  (divided  into  Caudate  Nucleus,  and 
Lenticular  Nucleus)  lying  farther  forward  than  the  Thalami  Optici 
and  the  whole  four  bodies  embedded  in  the  cerebral  hemispheres. 
These  four  bodies  are  connected  upwards,  through  the  hemis- 
pherical white  matter,  with  the  grey  matter  of  the  cortical 
envelope ;  downwards,  through  the  Crura  Cerebri,  with  the  Pons, 
the  Medulla,  and  the  Spinal  Cord ;  horizontally,  through  the 
Commissures,  with  each  other.  Farther,  the  cortical  envelope  of 
one  hemisphere  is  connected  through  the  Corpus  Callosum  with 
the  cortical  envelope  of  the  other.  In  the  lower  animals,  the 
basal  ganglia  are  proportionally  more  developed  than  in  man, 
in  whom  the  cortical  envelope  is  much  developed ;  and  in  the 
exposition  of  functions,  it  wnll  become  evident  that  the  basal 
ganglia  in  man  are  somewhat  in  the  position  of  an  instrument — 
a  lesser  brain,  for  the  more  highly  developed  cortical  envelope  to 
play  upon. 

Into  the  minute  structural  localisation  and  relations  of  all 
these  grey  masses,  it  is  not  necessary  to  enter  ;  for  our  purpose, 
it  is  enough  to  state  the  general  proposition  that  all  the  grey 
masses  are  inter-related  by  means  of  the  white  matter,  which  is 
chiefly  made  up  of  nerve  fibres.  Thus  not  only  are  different 
lobes  of  the  brain  connected ;  but  also  different  convolutions  on 
opposite  sides,  and  on  the  same  side  :  and  that  too  so  inti- 
mately that  there  is  no  difficulty  in  imagining  the  whole  brain 
working  as  a  single  organ  in  spite  of  the  probable  division  into 
special  centres. 


INTERNAL  STRUCTURES  OF  THE  CORTEX.        35 

Microscopic  Structure  of  the  Cerebral  Cortex. 

A  section  of  the  Cerebral  Cortex  (Fig.  9),  made  vertically  to 
the  surface,  presents  under  the  microscope  a  peculiarly  rich  con- 
glomerate of  nerve  cells,  nerve  fibres,  nei've  fibrils  and  neuroglial 
bedding.  The  cells  vary  so  much  in  size  and  shape  as  to  be 
fairly  capable  of  classification  according  to  these  qualities,  and 
they  are  so  arranged  as  to  form,  parallel  to  the  cortical  surface, 
several  layers  of  more  or  less  equable  distribution,  certain 
classes  of  cell  predominating  in  the  Rolandic  Areas  (or  Motor 
Areas),  certain  others  in  the  Occipital  Area,  and  certain  others 
in  yet  other  areas.  It  is  necessary,  however,  to  say  that  the 
microscopic  analysis  of  the  cortex  has  not  as  yet  made  it  possible 
to  isolate  and  define,  by  microscopic  structure  alone,  regions 
of  known  functional  differences.  The  approximation  to  this 
structural  definition  of  'Motor,'  'Sensory'  and  Compound 
regions  must  be  taken  with  the  qualification  that,  in  large  and 
important  regions  of  the  cortex,  a  diffused,  not  a  specific, 
arrangement  of  cells  is  constantly  found.  And  the  transition 
from  one  predominating  system  to  another  is  very  gradual.  * 

The  chief  varieties  of  the  Cortical  Cells  are — Large  Pyra- 
midal, Small  Pyramidal,  Angular,  Fusiform,  Granular  or  Nuclear, 
and  lastly  Irregular  cells.  These  cells,  a  typical  section  of 
the  cortex  would  exhibit  in  the  following  layers,  from  the 
surface  inwards — 

First :  Layer  of  irregular  cells,  embedded  in  neuroglia, 
cells  being  very  infrequent  and  the  whole  layer  being  probably 
non-nervous  in  character. 

Second  :  Layer  of  small  pyramidal  or  angular  cells. 

Third  :  Large  pyramidal  cells  in  groups.  These  cells  pre- 
dominate in  the  motor  regions. 

Fourth :  Granular  or  Nuclear  layer,  predominating  in  the 
Occipital  region,  which  is  sensory. 

Fifth  :  Fusiform  layer. 

The  local  variations  from  this  type  are  impressive  enough  to 
justify  one  in  saying  that  the  hypothesis  of  functional  localisa- 
tion receives  from  them  a  general  support.     But  the  connexion 

*  Bevan  Lewis,  Mental  Diseases,  p.  60  ct  scq.  ;  Ferrier,  op.  cit.,  p.  41  ; 
Foster,  op.  cit.,  p.  1031. 


36 


THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 
Fig.  9. 


I\Iotor. 


mm 

■>,  Via- /.yij  -t 


!'.< 


V  < 


^  J 


•i 


5 


Cortex  cf  Motor  Area  of  Brain  of 
Monkey.  (  x  147,  Bevan  Lewis.) — 1, 
First  or  peripheral  layer.  2,  Second 
layer,  small  angular  cells.  3,  Third 
layer,  large  pjramidal  cells.  4, 
Fourth  layer,  ganglionic  cells  and 
'  cell  clusters  '.  5,  Fifth  layer,  spindle 
cells. 


Sensory. 


>2 


W0A 

■V-  jp-i'-  *ii'-u /\ 


Cortex  of  Temporal  Lobe  of  Monkey. 
(  X  147,  Bevan  Lewis.) — 1,  First  or 
peripheral  lajer.  2,  Second  layer, 
small  angular  cells.  3,  Third  laj'er, 
pyramidal  cells.  4,  Fourth  layer, 
granular  stratum.  .5,  Fifth  layer, 
ganglionic  cells.  6,  Sixth  layer, 
spindle  cells. 


FUNCTIONS    OF    THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM.  37 

•of  cell  and  fibre  cannot  be  made  out  in  every  class  of  cell ;  we 
must  assume  that  there  are  many  white  fibres  that  end  in  other 
ways  than  in  cells,  probably  in  some  kind  of  network  or  inter- 
lacement. This  makes  it  necessary  to  reconcile  any  theory  of 
nervous  cell  action  with  the  absence  of  direct  fibrous  connexion  ; 
but  at  the  same  time  enables  us  to  conceive  of  the  brain  as  an 
infinitely  complex  and  continuous  structure,  capable  of  acting  as 
a  single  organ  (Foster,  5th  ed.,  pp.  1069  and  1033). 

Functions  of  the  Nervous  System. 

In  the  most  general  sense,  the  nervous  system  is  the  means 
of  regulating  and  redistributing  the  bodily  energies.  Without  a 
nervous  system,  the  eyes  are  blind,  the  ears  are  deaf,  the  limbs 
are  motionless  ;  there  is  no  sensation  and  no  movement.  That 
the  eyes  may  see,  nerve  impulses,  generated  by  impressions  of 
light  on  the  retina,  must  pass  along  the  optic  nerve  to  the  matter 
of  the  grey  centres,  there  to  produce  in  nerve  cells,  nerve  fibres  or 
intercellular  matrix,  changes  that  are  constant  concomitants  of 
sensation.  The  muscles,  again,  building  up  their  contractile 
substance  fi*om  the  complex  chemicals  of  the  blood,  so  lay  up 
a  store  of  energy ;  but  that  the  muscles  may  contract,  nerve 
impulses,  generated  in  the  nerve  centres,  must  pass  along  the 
motor  nerves  to  the  muscles,  there  to  initiate  the  change  from 
potential  energy  to  kinetic.  The  organs  of  sense,  the  organs  of 
movement,  and,  in  a  general  way,  the  organs  of  nutrition,  all 
have  their  representation  in  the  nervous  system.  Nor  this  alone; 
for  the  combined  sense  activities  of  diiiferent  senses,  the  combined 
motor  activities  of  groups  of  muscles  and  the  multiform  co-ordina- 
tions of  sense  and  movement  everywhere,  have  their  central 
representation  on  nervous  grades  of  gi-eater  and  greater  com- 
plexity. For  the  infinite  complexities  of  regulation  and  redistribu- 
tion thus  involved,  two  things  are  essential  :  first,  the  storing  of 
nervous  energy  for  graduated  issue  according  to  the  various 
sensory,  motor,  or  nutritive  activities  ;  second,  the  transmission 
of  nerve  energy  to  and  fro  between  one  nerve  centre  and  another, 
and  between  the  nerve  centres  generally  and  the  peripheral 
organs.  The  first  is  the  special  function  of  the  grey  or  cellular 
matter  ;  the  second  of  the  white  or  fibrous  matter. 


38  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

Functions  of  Grey  Matter. 

The  only  definite  structures  of  the  grey  matter  are  the  nerve 
cells  and  nerve  fibres.  It  is  not  improbable,  however,  that  the 
structureless  intercellular  substance — the  neuroglia,  which  forms, 
so  large  a  portion  of  the  total  grey  matter — plays  some  obscure 
part  in  the  transmission  of  nerve  energies.  What  its  function  is, 
physiology  has  not  yet  finally  declared.  Nor  even  is  its  ana- 
tomical identity  as  yet  more  than  a  plausible  hypothesis.  More 
than  one  substance  seems  to  be  included  under  the  same  name 
(Obersteiner :  The  Anato?ny  of  the  Central  Nervous  Organs,  pp. 
154-5). 

Nerve  cells. — The  functions  of  the  nerve  cells  are  not  every- 
where the  same  ;  nerve  cells  as  they  vary  in  situation  and  struc- 
tiire  vary  also  in  function.  In  the  Posterior  Eoot  ganglion,  nerve 
cells,  attaching  themselves  by  a  single  process  (unipolar  cells)  to 
the  fibres  of  the  posterior  root  of  the  nerve,  constitute  for  those 
fibres  a  relay  of  nerve  matter  connected  in  some  obscure  way 
with  the  nutrition  of  the  nerve.  In  Sympathetic  Ganglia,  again, 
where  the  cells  are  multipolar  and  branch  irregularly,  a  fibre, 
passing  to  the  cell  as  a  medullated  fibre,  issues  from  it,  by  the  cell 
processes,  as  a  number  of  non-medullated  fibres.  The  cell  thus 
divesting  the  fibre  of  its  medullary  sheath  and  at  the  same  time 
acting  as  a  store  of  nutrition,  probably  multiplies  the  paths  for 
nerve  impulses,  and  so  by  a  local  mechanism  secures  the  diffused 
action  essential  to  the  co-ordinated  acti%dties  of  the  viscera.  Such 
a  diffused  distribution  of  nerve  paths  forms  an  intelligible  physio- 
logical basis  for  one  large  group  of  sensations- — the  organic  sensa- 
tions (Gaskell :  Journ.  of  Phys.,  vol.  ix.).  But  so  far  as  present 
knowledge  goes,  neither  in  the  spinal,  nor  in  the  sympathetic 
ganglia,  is  the  nerve  cell  anything  beyond  a  source  of  nutrition  or 
a  local  meeting  place  for  nerve  fibres  of  the  same  order  :  it  does 
not  act  as  a  central  connecting  mechanism  between  two  fibres  of 
different  orders  (Foster  :  Physiology,  5th  ed.,  p.  176). 

In  the  spinal  cord,  on  the  other  hand,  the  nerve  cell  is  a 
central  connecting  mechanism  for  fibres  of  different  orders — for 
centrifugal  and  centripetal  fibres.  Centripetal  or  ingoing  impulses 
passing  to  the  cell  are  there  reinforced  from  its  store  of  nerve 
energy,  radiated  in  a  thousand  directions  along  the  delicate  pro- 


FUNCTIONS    OF   NERVE    CELLS.  39 

toplasmic  nerve  network,  thus  absorbed  in  the  rearranging  of  cell 
molecules  for  storage  and  future  issue,  or  again  directed  outward 
along  an  axis-cylinder  process  as  a  series  of  centrifugal  or  outgoing 
impulses.  The  cell  thus  acts  as  a  centre — a  store,  that  is,  of 
potential  energy  capable  of  becoming  kinetic  on  a  given  stimulus. 
At  the  same  time  it  is  a  source  of  nutrition  to  the  fibres  issuing 
from  it.  Cells  of  this  order  are  large,  much  branched,  and  every- 
where associated  with  umscular  movements.  They  are,  there- 
fore, named  motor.  In  the  so-called  '  motor  areas '  of  the 
cerebral  cortex,  such  large  cells  are  constantly  present,  and  them 
physiologists  are  inclined  to  regard  as  the  true  homologues  of  the 
spinal  motor  cells  (Charcot). 

But  hardly  anywhere,  probably  not  even  in  the  spinal  cord, 
does  the  connexion  of  centripetal  and  centrifugal  fibres  take  place 
simply  through  a  single  motor  or  even  a  group  of  motor  cells. 
Centripetal  impulses  pass  first  to  a  smaller  cell,  more  rounded, 
and  less  branched,  but  connected  directly  or  indirectly  with  the 
motor  cells.  These  are  named  sensory  cells.  They  occur  in  the 
cord  and  they  constitute  an  overwhelming  majority  of  the 
so-called  '  sensory  areas  '  of  the  cerebral  cortex.  They  are 
probably  the  receptive  terminus  of  centripetal  impulses,  which 
here  are  stored,  elaborated,  reinforced,  diverted,  or,  by  intercellular 
paths,  radiated  to  other  groups  of  sensory  or  motor  cells. 

Note.  In  thus  assigning  functions  to  the  cell,  we  have 
assumed  the  specific  nature  of  nerve  energy,  the  possibility  of 
storage  and  graduated  discharge,  and  the  marvellous  complexity 
of  structure  and  physiological  process  that  make  storage  and 
discharge  possible.  Here  we  have  little  help  from  histology, 
which  finds  in  cell  and  fibre  a  complexity,  great  as  it  is,  but 
little  adequate  to  the  enormous  range  of  nerve  activities ;  or 
from  nervous  chemistry,  which  as  yet  has  to  content  itself 
with  gross  results ;  or  from  physics,  which  requires  in  the  cell 
unstable  molecules  of  vast  size  and  complicated  form.  But  in 
a  general  way  speculative  physiology  is  able  to  coi'relate  storage 
and  discharge  with  the  varying  states  of  cell  nutrition.  The 
farther  question — whether  '  internal '  nutrition  alone,  unaided 
or  unabetted  by  different  nerve  impulses,  would  ever  result  in 
'  discharge,'  is  still  open,  though  the  possibility  of  this  seems 
to  be  the  '  limiting  value,'  so  to  speak,  of  cortical  spontaneity 


40  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

(see   Foster,    p.    1116,    where    the    whole   question  is   minutely 
argued). 

Functions  of  Nerve  Fibres. 

The  properties  and  functions  of  nerve  fibres  are  less  hypo- 
thetical than  those  of  nerve  cells.  The  comparative  simplicity  of 
the  fibres,  the  occurrence  of  limited  lesions  in  individual  nerves 
of  the  living  body  and  the  possibility  of  isolated  experimental 
study  after  excision,  have  resulted  in  certain  generalities  that 
we  may  accept  as  verified.  And  the  propositions  here  set  down 
cover  to  a  certain  extent  the  properties  of  nerve  tissue  generally. 

First.  Nerves,  like  muscles,  belong  to  the  class  of  irritable  tissues 
— tissues,  that  is,  capable  of  responding  in  a  special  way  to  stimuli  of 
different  kiuds — mechanical,  thermal,  chemical,  electrical.  In  nuiscle, 
irritability  shows  itself  by  a  visible  change  of  form — a  contraction  ;  in 
nerve,  there  is  no  detectable  change  of  form,  but  there  is  an  obscure 
molecular  change,  producing,  when  the  muscle  is  still  attached  to  its 
nerve,  a  muscular  contraction,  and  having  an  electrical  change  as  a 
constant  accompaniment.  This  molecular  change  is  the  nerve  imindse. 
Unlike  a  muscular  contraction,  however,  a  nerve  impulse  gives  rise  to  no 
chemical  or  thermal  change  that  present  methods  can  detect.  '  In  fact 
beyond  the  terminal  results,  such  as  a  muscular  contraction  in  the  case 
of  a  nerve  going  to  a  muscle,  or  some  affection  of  the  central  nervous 
system  in  the  case  of  a  nerve  still  in  connexion  with  its  nervous  centre, 
there  is  one  event  and  one  event  only  which  we  are  able  to  recognise  as 
the  objective  token  of  a  nervous  impulse,  and  that  is  an  electric  change' 
(Foster,  p.  128). 

Second.  The  electrical  change  accompanying  a  nerve  impulse  is  the 
'  current  of  action  '  or  '  negative  variation  '  of  the  natural  current.  In 
a  resting  nerve,  as  in  a  resting  muscle,  there  is  .present  a  current  that 
deflects  the  galvanometer  needle  in  one  direction  ;  in  an  active  nerve,  as 
in  a  contracting  muscle,  the  current  so  changes  that  the  deflection  of  the 
needles  is  reversed  almost  to  zero.  This  is  the  'negative  variation'  (Du 
Bois  Reymond).  But  the  pre-existence  of  the  resting  ctnrent  is  doubtful ; 
hence  the  non-committal  name  '  current  of  action '  (Hermann).  The 
current  of  action,  which  like  the  nerve  impulse  travels  in  form  of  a  wave, 
increases  or  diminishes  its  rate  and  intensity  with  the  rate  and  intensity 
of  the  nerve  impulse. 

Third.  From  the  point  of  stimulation  the  nerve  impulse  travels  in 
both  directions.  The  proofs  of  this  important  proposition  are  many ; 
but  one  seems  crucial.  When  a  nerve,  sensoxw  or  motor,  is  stimulated 
raidway  between  its  peripheral  and  central  ends,  the  current  of  action 


FUNCTIONS    OF    NERVE    FIBRES.  41 

passes  equally  through  the  central  and  peripheral  parts.  This  can 
happen  only  if  the  nerve  impulse  travels  equally  in  both  directions 
(Rosenthal :  Muscles  and  Nerves,  pp.  218,  312). 

Fourth.  A  nerve  is  not  equally  excitable  at  all  points  ;  the  excitability 
is  greatest  at  the  central  end.  When,  therefore,  a  motor  nerve  is  stimu- 
lated far  away  from  the  muscle,  the  muscular  response  is  more  powerful 
than  when  the  stimulation  is  nearer  the  muscle.  From  this  fact  Pfliiger 
inferred  an  avalanche-like  increase  of  the  nerve  imjDulse  during  trans- 
mission ;  the  nerve  thus  forming  an  active,  not  a  passive,  conductor. 
The  inference,  however,  is  open  to  doiibt.  '  It  must  at  anj'  rate  be 
admitted  that  at  one  and  the  same  point  in  the  nerve  the  excitability 
may  vary  in  degree,  and  it  is  therefore  simpler  to  assume  that  the 
•difference  in  the  results  of  irritating  the  nerve  at  varioiis  points  depends 
directly  on  differences  in  the  excitability  at  those  points,  instead  of  being 
in  the  first  place  dependent  on  changes  caused  by  transmission ;  it  can 
■even  be  shown  to  be  probable  on  various  grounds,  as  indicated  above, 
that  the  excitement  in  propagating  itself  through  the  nerve  meets 
with  resistance  and  is  therefore  rather  weakened  than  strengthened' 
{Rosenthal :  Muscles  ami  Nerves,  p.  123). 

Fifth.  To  generate  a  nerve  impulse  the  stimulus  must  be  sudden.  A 
resting  nerve  we  may  regard  as  a  complicated  arrangement  of  molecules 
ready  to  rearrange  themselves  on  a  given  stinmlus  ;  but  this  rearrange- 
ment, that  it  may  propagate  itself  along  the  nerve,  must  be  suddenly 
induced.  The  well-miderstood  fact  of  common  life  that  a  new  sensation 
is  most  intense  when  it  follows  another  sensation  suddenly,  has  its  coun- 
terpart in  exact  physiology.  A  continuous  electric  current  passed 
through  a  nerve  produces  no  contraction  in  the  muscle  except  at  the 
instant  of  making  the  current  or  breaking.  On  the  other  hand  a  faradic 
■cm-rent,  which  is  a  rapid  series  of  'makes  '  and  'breaks,'  produces  a 
corresponding  series  of  contractions.  Similarly  with  mechanical,  ther- 
mal and  chemical  stimuli :  these,  to  produce  a  nerve  impulse,  must  act 
suddenly.  This  peculiarity  of  a  nerve  fibre  is  the  physical  counterpart 
to  the  Law  of  Relativity  in  the  corresponding  mental  effects,  but 
stimuli  that  singly  are  too  feeble  may  produce  a  nerve  impulse  by  their 
■cumulative  action. 

Sixth.  The  effect  of  a  single  stimulus  is  a  single  impulse  ;  now  the 
voliintary  contraction  of  muscle  is  known  to  be,  not  a  single  contraction, 
but  a  rapid  series  of  contractions  ;  it  corresponds  to  the  state  of  sus- 
tained contraction  (tetanus)  produced  in  an  isolated  muscle  by  a  series 
■of  stimuli  appUed  to  the  nerve.  Voluntary  contraction  is  in  fact  a 
tetanus.  This  it  is  easy  to  demonstrate  :  the  steadiest  hand  trembles  in 
activity  ;  the  tremor  of  chronic  alcoholism  or  of  old  age  is  only  an  exaggera- 
tion of  the  universal  phenomenon.  It  must  follow  that  the  voluntary 
tremor  is  due  either  to  some  obscure  peculiai'ity  in  the  muscle  itself  or 


42  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

to  the  rapid  recurrence  of  the  nervous  unpulses  ;  these  in  their  turn- 
involve  the  rapidly  recurrent  discharge  of  the  nervous  centres.  Certain 
investigators,  arguing  from  the  rate  of  tremor  in  voluntary  contraction^ 
have  fixed  the  rate  of  central  discharge  at  ten  to  fourteen  discharges 
per  second.  This,  however,  is  hardly  demonstrated  by  the  results  re- 
corded ;  and  besides,  the  assumption  is  rendered  doubtful  by  the  fact  of 
the  cumulative  effect  of  feeble  stimuli.  Every  line  of  argument  makes 
it  probable  that  the  central  nervous  discharges  are  rhythmic  ;  but  the 
rate  of  the  rhythm  is  yet  finally  to  be  determined. 

Seventh.  After  prolonged  activity,  nerves,  like  muscles,  show  fatigue. 
Nerve  impulses,  hke  muscular  contractions,  ai'e  probably'  explosive 
chemical  decompositions  of  some  sort ;  fatigue  in  both  probably  coincides 
with  the  exhaustion,  total  or  partial,  of  the  explosive  elements.  In  the 
resting  state  both  muscle  and  nerve  recover  their  explosiveness.  In 
muscle,  the  decompositions  and  recompositions  of  contraction  ai-e  more 
or  less  definitely  understood  ;  in  nerve,  however,  the  chemical  or  thermal 
changes  are  as  yet  inferences  of  analogy. 

Eighth.  A  nerve  fibre  camiot  of  itself  initiate  a  nerve  impulse  ;  such 
initiation  requires  a  stimulus.  In  the  normal  body  such  stimulus  may 
be  initiation  of  the  end  organs  of  a  sensory  nerve,  a  direct  impa'ct  on  the 
nerve  trunk,  sensory  or  motor,  or  tlie  discharge  of  a  motor  cell  or  cells 
directly  connected  with  the  fibre.  To  take  first  the  irritation  of  a  sensorj- 
end  organ.  The  nerve  impulse  passes  inwards  to  the  nerve  centres  and 
there  caiises  the  discharge  of  the  connected  sensory  cells.  The  discharge 
of  these,  should  it  spread  farther,  may  cause  discharge  of  connected 
motor  cells.  Of  these,  in  turn,  the  dischai'ge  initiates  a  nerve  impulse 
along  a  nerve.  And  thus  the  motor  discharge  is  directly  sequent  on  the- 
peripheral  stimulation  ;  and  this  is  true  of  the  majority  of  motor  dis- 
charges. But  the  motor  discharge  may  be  independent  of  sensory 
stimulus.  The  discharge  of  a  cell,  like  the  passage  of  a  nerve  impulse, 
is  probably  an  explosive  decomposition  of  some  sort — a  katabolic  or 
destructive  process.  Following  on  this  is  the  state  of  rest,  which  is 
probably  an  anabolic  or  constructive  process.  And  the  effective  life 
of  a  nerve  cell  is  a  continual  alternation  between  these  two,  anabolism 
and  katabolism.  Now  anabolism  (construction,  restitution,  assimilation) 
depends  directlj^  on  the  supply  of  nutriment,  that  is  on  the  blood  supply  ; 
and  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  in  the  anabolic  process  a  point  comes  when 
the  cell  is  liable  to  discharge  either  with  a  very  slight  stimulus  from 
other  nerve  connexions,  or  simply  with  the  excess  of  nutrition  itself.  In 
the  latter  case,  the  true  stimulus  is  the  Llood  fluids.  Tlie  discharge  of 
motor  cells,  therefore,  follows  naturally  on  the  state  of  rest.  The  same 
is  true  of  sensory  cells.  Nerve  cells,  therefore,  are  reservoirs  of  energy 
stored  from  the  blood,  and  capable  of  graduated  issue  without  the  action 
of  other  nerve  connexions.     In  this  sense  a  nerve  cell  is  automatic  or 


FUNCTIONS    OF    THE    SPINAL    CORD.  43 

spontaneous  in  its  action  ;  and  thus  the  charge  and  discharge,  the  ana- 
bolism  and  katabohsm  of  cells  becomes  an  expression  of  the  Doctrine  of 
Spontaneity.  This  whole  matter,  however,  must  yet  be  regarded  as 
among  the  non-verified  assumptions  of  Physiology  (see  Foster,  op.  cit.y 
p.  1117). 

Ninth.  Between  fibres  and  cells  the  distinction  is  rather  anatomical 
than  physiological.  The  tj-pical  nerve  fibre  is  a  process  of  a  nerve  cell, 
and  even  where  this  is  not  the  case,  there  is  no  need  to  assiune  a  funda- 
mental qualitative  difference  in  the  activities  of  cell  and  fibre.  Cell 
and  fibre  alike  store  and  transmit  nerve  energy ;  but  the  cell,  from  its 
greater  size  and  more  complicated  build,  is  better  adapted  for  storage, 
the  fibre,  for  transmission. 

Functions  of  the  Spinal  Cord  and  Medulla  Oblongata. 

The  Spinal  Cord,  with  the  Medulla,  may  be  looked  upon, 
first,  as  a  reflex  mechanism,  pure  and  simple  ;  second,  as  an 
executive  centre  for  voluntary  actions  originated  in  the  higher 
parts  of  the  brain  ;  third,  as  a  conducting  path  for  all  forms  of 
nerve  impulse,  ingoing  and  outgoing. 

First.  The  three  essentials  of  a  reflex  action  are  an  ingoing 
stimulus  or  nerve  impulse,  a  central  discharge  of  nerve  energy, 
and  an  outgoing  nerve  impulse  to  some  motor  end  organ.  In  a 
frog  whose  higher  centres  have  been  removed  by  decapitation, 
the  cord  alone  being  left,  stimulation  of  a  limb  by  pinching  or  a 
drop  of  acid,  is  followed  by  the  withdrawal  of  the  limb.  Here 
an  afferent  or  ingoing  impulse,  initiated  by  stimulation  of  the 
skin,  and  conducted  upwards  by  the  sensory  portion  of  the  spinal 
nerve,  passes,  by  the  posterior  root,  to  the  grey  matter  of  the 
cord.  There,  in  some  way  not  fully  understood,  the  afferent  im- 
pulse affects  the  cells,  whose  function  it  is  to  reflect,  divert  or 
radiate  into  new  channels  nerve  impulses  of  whatever  order. 
The  cells,  thus  disturbed,  initiate  an  efferent  or  outgoing  im- 
pulse, which,  passing  outward  by  the  anterior  nerve  root,  ulti- 
mately reaches  the  muscles  of  the  limb,  and  stimulates  them  to 
contract  in  co-ordination.  The  visible  stimulus  is  pinching  of  the 
root ;  the  visible  result  is  withdrawal  of  the  limb — a  co-ordinated 
muscular  movement. 

Second.  As  an  executive  series  of  nerve  centres,  the  cord  is 
under  the  control  and  direction  of  the  brain,  which,  from  the 
enormous  variety  and  delicacy  of  internal  voluntary  stimuli,  is 


44  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

able  to  use  the  cord  to  carry  out  all  classes  of  voluntary  move- 
ment.    In  such  cases  the  initiatory  stimulus  is  from  the  brain. 

Third.  As  a  conducting  medium,  the  cord  provides  a  path 
for  all  classes  of  ingoing  impulses  on  their  way  to  the  higher 
centres,  as  well  as  to  the  higher  parts  of  the  cord  itself  ;  and  for 
all  classes  of  outgoing  impulses  on  their  way  from  the  brain  to 
lower  centres,  or  from  the  higher  centres  of  the  cord  itself  to  the 
lower.  The  paths  already  described  under  Structure  are  the 
functional  divisions  of  the  cord  as  a  conductor.  Impulses,  how- 
ever, also  pass  upwards  and  downwards  in  the  grey  matter. 

The  Medulla  Oblongata,  in  its  actions,  partakes  of  the  same 
characters  as  the  cord  ;  but  in  the  medulla,  or  bulb,  lie  some  of 
the  centres  most  important  to  the  life  of  the  body,  namely,  centres 
regulating  respiration  and  circulation.  The  respiratory  centre  in 
the  medulla  has  long  been  held  to  be  truly  automatic — that  is, 
capable  of  discharging  energy  into  outgoing  paths  without  any 
afferent  or  ingoing  nerve  stimulus,  or  any  stimulus  from  higher 
or  lower  nerve  centres.  The  bulb  is  a  crow^ded  collection  of  ever 
active  nerve  centres,  and  a  thoroughfare  ever  crowded  with  nerve 
impulses  from  and  to  the  higher  centres. 

The  classification  of  reflex  actions  and  their  significance  in  the 
mental  life  of  the  organism  form  the  topic  of  a  future  chapter. 

Functions  of  the  MicldU  Brain  and  Cerebellum. 

The  Middle  Brain,  which  includes  the  masses  that  lie  between 
the  Medulla  Oblongata  and  the  Cerebral  Hemispheres,  may  be 
regarded  functionally  as  a  single  mechanism.  It  is  certainly 
made  up  of  parts  that  are  anatomically  distinguishable,  but  the 
specific  differentiation  of  function  has  not  proceeded  so  far  as  to 
make  it  possible  to  refer  this  or  that  phenomenon  to  this  or  that 
individual  part.  The  mass  as  a  whole,  however,  has  certain 
constant  functions,  which  are  revealed  when  the  cerebral  hemis- 
pheres are  removed.  Such  removal  can  be  effected  with  complete 
success  in  the  frog,  with  less  success  in  the  pigeon,  and  with  still 
less  success  in  the  dog  or  other  mammal. 

In  the  frog,  totaJ  ablation  of  the  cerebral  hemispheres  without 
injury  to  the  other  parts  of  the  brain,  leaves  the  animal  capable  of 
all  the  actions  of  ordinary  life,  but  deprives  it  of  all  initiative.  The 
animal  sits,  hops,  refuses  to  lie  on  its  back,  or   avoids  obstacles 


FUNCTIONS    OF    THE    MIDDLE    BRAIN. 


45 


Diagram  of  the  Grey  Masses  of  the  Spinal  Cord  and  Brain,  sliowing  the  course  of  the 
(Conducting  Paths  (after  Flechsig)  (Ross). 

J{,  Fissure  of  Rolando.  ' 

P"  P,  T  and  /'(,  Course  of  the  fibres  of  the  pyramidal  tract  from  their  origin  in  the  central 
convolutions  to  their  termination  in  the  anterior  grey  horns  («,  a). 

I,  II,  III,  First,  second,  and  third  portions  of  the  lenticular  nucleus  (ifX).  NC,  Caudate 
nucleus.     Th,  Optic  thalamus. 

D,  C,  B,  A,  Points  from  whicli  fibres  issue  connecting  the  cortex  of  the  brain  and  basal 
ganglion,  and  also  the  grey  substance  of  the  pons  (fO).  lid,  Fibres  connecting  the 
cerebellum  and  optic  thalamus  ;  and  Ctyj,  those  connecting  the  cerebellum  and  the 
gi-ey  substance  of  the  pons. 

aq,  and  ;)'/,  Anterior  and  posterior  ])air  of  corpora  qnadrigemina  respectively. 

.(■,  Upper,  and  .'',  lower  fibres  connecting  the  olivai  y  body  iiiid  the  corpora  quadrigeniina. 

FR,  Formatio  reticularis  of  the  medulla  obhingita, "fornied  liy  tihres  from  the  optic  thalamus 
(270,  the  internal  division  of  the  interior  ])eduncle  of  the  cerebellum  {icp),  from  the  spinal 
cord  (,rV,  ar,  and  «/•'),  and  probably  also  from  the  clavate  nucleus  (i\V). 

0,  Olivary  body;  tcp,  fibres  of  the  restiform  bodies  connecting  the  olivary  bodies  and  cere- 
bellum ;  other  fibres  connect  it  with  the  triangular  (Npr)  and  clavate  (..Vi)  nuclei. 

dp,  Decussation  of  the  pyramids. 

pr,  Fibres  of  the  posterior  roots  which  pass  upwards  and  down  wanls  into  the  grey  substance, 
and  pursue  only  a  short  course. 

a,  a  ,  a",  o  ",  Anterior  roots. 

p,  pr,  pr",  G,  Fibres  of  the  posterior  roots. 


46  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

placed  in  its  way ;  but  all  this  only  on  stimulation.  Similarly 
a  pigeon  flies  when  thrown  into  the  air,  or  sits  on  the  roost, 
or  performs  the  other  actions  of  its  ordinary  life  ;  but  the  initia- 
tive is  gone.  In  mammals,  the  facts  point  in  the  same  direction. 
The  inference  is  threefold  :  first,  that  the  power  of  spontaneous 
initiation  or  voluntary  activity  probably  rests  with  the  cerebral 
hemispheres;  second,  that  the  Middle  Brain  serves  to  co-ordinate, 
to  regulate  or  to  elaborate  all  the  fundamental  activities,  sensory 
and  motor  ;  third,  that  in  the  normal  body  the  cerebral  hemis- 
pheres exercise  a  persistent  control,  both  initiatory  and  inhibitory, 
over  the  Middle  Brain  and  the  nervous  mechanisms  situated  lower 
down.  With  the  Middle  Brain  intact,  however,  it  only  needs  the 
proper  stimuli  to  induce  all  the  complicated  actions  of  the  normal 
animal.  '  The  machinery  for  all  the  necessary  and  usual  bodily 
movements  is  present  in  all  its  completeness.  We  may  regard 
the  share,  therefore,  which  the  cerebral  hemispheres  take  in 
executing  the  movements  of  which  the  entire  animal  is  capable, 
as  that  of  patting  this  machinery  into  action,  or  of  limiting  its 
previous  activity '  (Foster,  p.  1001 ;  Ferrier,  p.  108,  for  full 
discussion  of  this  problem  in  reference  to  facts  and  experiments). 

The  co-ordinative  machinery  of  the  Middle  Brain,  with  which 
for  this  purpose  the  Cerebellum  may  be  associated,  is  liable  to 
disarrangement  from  two  sources  :  first,  from  disorder  of  certain 
afferent  nerve  impressions ;  and  second,  from  incisions,  injuries, 
or  diseases  of  the  central  machinery  itself. 

First — Afferent  Disorder. — The  Middle  Brain  as  a  co-ordinative 
machine  acts  either  at  the  instance  of  the  cerebral  hemispheres, 
or  in  response  to  afferent  impressions.  Impressions  of  vision, 
touch  and  muscular  sensation,  normally  play  a  large  part  in  this 
regulative  stimulation  ;  but  a  residue  of  facts  seems  to  indicate 
that,  for  the  extremely  delicate  co-ordinations  needed  for  the 
equilibrium  of  the  body,  the  regulative  stimuli  proceed  from  the 
semicircular  canals  and  labyrinth  of  the  ear.  Any  disturbance 
of  these — such  as  accretions  pressing  on  the  ear-drum,  or  disease 
of  the  petrous  portion  of  the  temporal  bone,  results  in  defective 
equilibrium  of  the  body.  Experiment  gives  a  similar  result.  A 
leading  symptom,  too,  of  Meniere's  disease  of  the  ear  is  vertigo, 
or  dizziness,  which  is  the  subjective  side  of  disorder  in  some  part 
of  the  mid-brain  or  its  afierent  nerves.     A  parallel  series  of  facts 


ROTATORY    MOVEMENTS    FROM    INCISIONS.  47 

appears  in  locomotor  ataxy,  where  the  ingoing  stimuli  from  the 
lower  limbs  are  defective.  Experimental  vertigo  due  to  visual 
impressions  is  readily  produced  by  rapid  rotation  of  the  body  with 
the  eyes  open.  In  every  case  the  amount  and  sequence  of  nervous 
discharges  necessary  for  co-ordination  seem  to  be  regulated  or 
guided  by  afferent  impressions  from  special  end  organs. 

Second  —Central  Disorder. — When  the  co-ordinative  machinery 
itself  is  interfered  with  by  operative  incision,  by  injury,  or  by 
disease,  the  result  is  'forced  movement  '.  Thus,  a  one-sided 
incision  of  the  crura  cerebri,  of  the  middle  or  inferior  peduncles 
of  the  cerebellum,  of  the  pons  varolii,  of  the  medulla  oblongata, 
and  even  of  the  corpora  quadrigemina  and  corpora  striata  (which 
last  have  been  hitherto  excluded  from  the  middle  brain),  results 
in  rolling  or  rotatory  movements  of  the  animal.  Every  effort  or 
stimulus  to  act  ends  always  in  a  persistent  rotation  of  the  body 
on  its  long  axis.  The  same  or  similar  lesions  may  produce 
'  circus '  movements,  where  the  injured  animal  persistently 
•describes  a  circle,  moving  sometimes  towards,  sometimes  away 
from,  the  injured  side.  Yet  other  varieties  are  the  '  clock-hand 
movement,'  the  '  somersault,'  and  the  '  rectilinear'  movement. 

The  hypothesis  suggested  by  these  singular  manifestations  is 
that  there  exists  in  permanence  a  powerful  nervous  stimulation 
to  the  muscles  of  the  two  sides  of  the  body,  such  as  would  cause 
•an  energetic  propulsion  of  each.  In  the  ordinary  condition  the 
two  sets  of  stimuli  are  balanced,  and  produce  an  equilibrium, 
disturbed  only  by  the  slight  remissions  necessary  for  locomotion 
and  other  voluntary  exertions.  The  destruction  of  the  nervous 
tracts  or  centres  on  one-half  of  the  body  leaves  a  preponderance 
on  the  other  ;  and  the  one-sided  movements  that  are  seen  in 
consequence  testify  how  energetic  the  persistent  current  must 
be.  If  this  be  the  true  interpretation  of  the  phenomena,  we 
obtain  from  it  a  striking  confirmation  of  the  doctrine  (to  be 
afterwards  adverted  to)  of  internal  or  self-originated  movements, 
as  contrasted  with  the  movements  from  outward  stimulation. 
This  hypothesis  of  continual  discharge  does  not  conflict  with  the 
hypothesis  that,  for  complex  co-ordinations  in  space,  the  discharge 
requires  the  guidance  of  ingoing  impulses. 

Corpora  Quadrigemina. — Chief  among  the  individual  ganglia 
constituting  the    Middle  Brain  are  the    Corpora  Quadrigemina. 


48  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

They  are  in  some  way  connected  with  vision,  and  probably  with 
hearing  ;  but  the  precise  part  they  play  is  not  finally  determined. 
They  are  reasonably  to  be  regarded  as  part  of  the  co-ordinative 
mechanism  for  sensations  ;  they  probably  elaborate  or  transmute 
visual  impressions  on  their  way  to  the  motor  centres,  cortical  or 
sub-cortical ;  so  forming,  as  it  were,  the  '  court  of  first  instance  ' 
for  these  visual  or  other  sensations  that  are  concerned  in  motor 
and  sensory  co-ordination. 

Coiyora  Striata  and  Optic  Thalami. — The  Corpora  Striata  and 
Optic  Thalami  serve,  not  only  to  multiply  or  diffuse  the  paths  to 
and  from  the  hemispheres,  but  also  to  innervate  '  the  same  move- 
ments as  are  differentiated  in  the  cortical  centres,  but  of  a  lower 
grade  of  specialisation'.  'It  is  probable  that  the  optic  thalami, 
specially  related  to  the  sensory  tracts,  and  the  corpora  striata, 
specially  related  to  the  motor  tracts,  represent  in  a  subordinate 
manner  all  the  sensory  and  motor  centres  of  the  cortex,  and  con- 
stitute together  a  sensori-motor  mechanism,  subservient  to  the 
manifestation  of  all  those  forms  of  activity  which  do  not  imply 
conscious  discrimination  or  true  volition.  In  proportion  as  the  capa- 
cities and  modes  of  activity  transcend  mere  consensual  or  adap- 
tive automatism,  and  involve  continuous  discrimination  and  special 
motor  acquisition,  do  the  cortical  centres  become  necessary,  as  in 
man.  In  such  case  the  basal  ganglia  may  be  more  or  less  com- 
pletely dispensed  with,  as  would  appear  from  the  absence  of 
permanent  symptoms  in  case  of  lesions  confined  to  the  ganglionic 
substance  proper.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  as  in  rabbits,  the  modes 
of  activity  do  not  greatly  transcend  automatism,  the  cortical  cen- 
tres are  of  less  importance,  and  may  be  removed  without  creating 
much  obvious  disturbance.  In  intermediate  cases,  as  in  dogs,  the 
degree  of  disturbance  caused  by  removal  of  the  cortical  centres 
will  depend  on  the  relative  proportion  in  their  modes  of  activity 
between  mere  automatism,  provided  for  by  the  basal  ganglia,  and 
special  acquisitions  which  have  involved  the  use  of  conscious 
discrimination'  (Ferrier,  pp.  419  and  422). 

Cerebellum.  —  Of  the  Cerebellum,  as  unassociated  with 
the  Middle  Brain,  there  is  not  much  to  say.  Experiment  has 
shown  it  to  be  intimately  related  to  the  equilibrium  of  the 
bodily  movements.  Lesions  of  certain  parts  of  it  result  in 
disturbances  similar  to  those  already  detailed  under  the  Middle 


FUNCTIONS    OF    THE    CEREBRAL    CORTEX.  49 

Brain,  and  the  same  classes  of  afferent  impulses  are  found  to  be 
essential  to  the  integrity  of  cerebellar  action.    Probably,  if  extent 
of  anatomical  relationship  is  to  be  any  guide,  the  cerebellum  must 
be  held  as  related  to  the  co-ordination  both  of  sensation  and 
movement  in  every  variety.     Some  would  regard  it  as  the  active 
centre   of   continued  movements,   such   as   the    maintenance    of 
posture,  in  contrast  with  the  cerebrum,  which  initiates  change  of 
movement  (Eoss).     Others  consider  it  the  seat  of  co-ordination 
or  elaboration  for  afferent  impulses  in  general  and  for  muscular 
sensations  in  particular  (Gowers,  Foster).     Others  regard  it  as  a 
grand  motor  centre  (Bastian).     The  grey  matter  of  the  cerebrum 
is  connected  with  the  grey  matter  of  the   cerebellum,  but   the 
precise  interaction  of  those  great  bodies   is  difficult  to  define. 
Indeed,  no  one  hypothesis  covers  all  the  facts  known  of  the  cere- 
belluin  ;  and  it  is  even  doubtful  whether  the  cerebellum,  like  the 
corpora  striata  and  optic  thalami,  is  not  a  compound  of  several 
organs  accidentally  brought  together  in  the  course  of  develop- 
ment. 

Functions  of  the  Cerebral  Cortex. 

In  the  lower  nervous  centres — the  cord,  medulla,  pons,  basal 
ganglia — localisation  of  function  is  to  some  extent  guided  by 
ob\aous  anatomical  differences.  These  structures  are  all  well- 
defined  masses  of  grey  and  white  matter,  for  the  most  part  in 
obvious  relation  with  definite  organs  or  groups  of  organs.  But 
in  the  higher  reaches  of  the  Cerebrum,  in  the  Cerebral  Cortex, 
there  is  no  such  simple  division  into  isolable  masses.  Grey 
matter  in  convolutions  the  naked  eye  does  distinguish  ;  but  the 
convolutions  have  no  constancy,  no  obvious  connexion  with 
any  definite  function.  Microscopically  the  indications  of  sub- 
division are  more  marked ;  constantly  certain  types  of  cell  are 
aggregated  in  certain  regions ;  large  pyramidal  cells  prevail  in 
the  Eolandic  areas  ;  smaller  orders  of  cell  in  the  Occipital. 
There  is  no  great  hazard  in  assuming  that  the  peculiar  local 
aggregations  indicate  differences  of  function.  The  division  into 
organs,  in  fact,  is  no  longer  a  naked-eye,  but  a  microscopic  divi- 
sion. Even  microscopic  structure,  however,  carries  us  but  a  little 
way  towards  a  differentiation  of  functional  activities.  Physiologi- 
cal experiment  is  needed  as  well  as  clinical  research  in  the  rough 

4 


50  THE    NEEVOUS    SYSTEM. 

experiments  of  disease  ;  and  both  orders  of  investigation  have 
produced  results  that,  if  not  in  many  cases  iinal,  yet  justify  a 
provisional  hypothesis  on  the  localisation  of  cortical  functions. 

The'primary  issue  lies  between  two  hypotheses  :  first,  that  in 
all  its  activities  the  whole  cerebrum  acts,  that  the  cortical  grey 
matter  is  but  one  organ  of  multifarious  function,  and  that  no  part 
■of  it  is  separable  in  function  from  all  the  rest  (Flourens) ;  second, 
that  the  cerebrum  may  act  in  parts,  that  the  cortical  grej^  matter 
may  be  differentiated  into  definite  functional  areas,  and  that  these, 
on  stimulation  or  ablation  or  definite  disturbance,  are  found  to 
regulate  and  control  certain  definable  functions  of  the  organism. 
By  the  first  hypothesis  the  cerebrum  is  a  single  organ ;  by  the 
second,  it  is  a  vast  aggregate  of  organs,  in  relation  with  all  the 
highest  activities  of  the  organism.  It  is  the  discovery  of  these 
particular  areas  or  organs  that  constitutes  the  work  of  Locali- 
sation. 

In  its  simplest  and  most  practical  form  the  Doctrine  of  Locali- 
sation may  be  stated  as  follows  :  Certain  limited  areas  of  the 
Cortical  Grey  Matter  are  associated  with  certain  definite 
movements  ;  certain  other  areas  are  associated  with  certain  sen- 
sations. The  movements  concerned  are  roughly  named  '  volun- 
tary,' a  designation  that  indicates  a  '  variable  spontaneity  '  of 
occurrence,  and  marks  them  off  from  movements  due  solely  to  the 
lesser  grey  centres.  In  like  manner  the  sensations,  being  sensa- 
tions proper,  are  marked  off'  from  mere  excito-motor  afferent 
impressions. 

The  evidence  for  this  Doctrine  of  Localisation  is  of  two  kinds  : 
first,  physiological  experiment  on  the  lower  animals — chiefly  dogs 
and  monkeys  ;  second,  actual  cases  of  cerebral  disease  in  man. 

First — Experimental  Evidence. — Experiments  onliving animals 
divide  into  two  classes — Stimulation  experiments  and  Ablation 
experiments. 

•  Stimulation. — The  Cortical  Grey  Matter,  long  regarded  as 
insusceptible  to  stimuli,  has  at  last  been  found  to  exhibit  certain 
constant  [phenomena  under  electric  stimuli — galvanic  or  faradic. 
Thus,  a  current  of  moderate  strength  applied  to  the  exposed  sur- 
face of  the  brain  in  the  upper  part  of  the  ascending  frontal  or 
ascending  parietal  convolutions  (Eolandic  Area),  gives  rise  to  cer- 
tain movements  of  the  leg  ;  applied  lower  down,  about  the  middle 


LOCALISATION    OF    FUNCTIONS.  51 

of  the  Eolandic  Area,  it  produces  certain  movements  of  the  arm  ; 
apphed  still  lower  down,  always  on  the  surface,  it  produces  cer- 
tain movements  of  the  face  and  mouth.  These  movements  are 
characteristic  and  constant  ;  they  follow  ahvays  on  stimulation 
of  the  given  areas  ;  they  are,  so  far  as  can  be  judged  from  animals 
under  narcosis,  the  movements  that  make  vip  the  voluntary  life  of 
the  animal.  And  the  areas  of  stimulation  are  often  well-defined  : 
it  is  possible  so  to  localise  the  area  of  leg  or  arm  as  to  foretell  with 
certainty  the  movements  that  will  follow  stimulation.  By  this 
method,  accordingly,  given  parts  of  the  cortex  have  been  sub- 
divided into  Motor  Areas.  The  Sensory  Areas  are  determined 
chiefly  by  the  next  method. 

Ablation. — When,  by  excision,  or  the  actual  cautery,  a  cortical 
area,  sensory  or  motor,  is  removed  or  destroyed,  the  phenomena 
constantly  associated  with  that  area  disappear.  Thus,  total 
destruction  of  the  Eolandic  Area  of  the  left  hemisphere  results  in 
paralysis  of  the  limbs  and  face  of  the  right  side  of  the  body  ; 
destruction  of  the  leg  area  results  in  the  disappearance  of  the 
characteristic  leg  movements  ;  and  so  with  the  arm,  shoulder, 
face,  trunk,  on  removal  of  their  respective  areas.  The  paralysis, 
however,  is  paralysis  not  of  all,  but  only  of  voluntary,  movements. 
Eeflex  and  automatic  movements  may  still  persist. 

In  like  manner  ablation  of  sensory  areas  results  in  defect  of 
sensation.  Thus,  removal  of  the  certain  temporal  convolutions 
produces  deafness  ;  removal  of  the  occipital  lobe  and  angular 
gyrus  produces  defects  of  vision. 

The  particular  results  are  not  always  so  simple  as  the  above  general 
statement  implies.  For  it  has  been  found  that  the  paralysis  of  move- 
ment is  often  temporary.  In  the  case  recorded  by  Munk  destruction  of 
the  Eolandic  Area  resulted  in  temporary  paralysis  ;  then  the  animal 
recovered,  but  his  movements  were  clumsy  and  ill  co-ordinated.  But 
ultimately  he  seemed  to  recover  complete  voluntary  competence.  Re- 
moval of  the  opposite  Eolandic  Area  in  the  same  animal  at  a  later 
period  resulted  in  a  series  of  events  precisely  parallel.  These  facts  are 
hardly  to  be  reconciled  with  any  one  hypothesis  yet  propounded. 

Cerebral  Disease  in  Man. — The  positive  facts  of  pain,  disease 
and  injury  in  man,  tend  to  confirm  the  general  conclusions  of  the 
experimental  method.  The  most  fruitful  orders  of  fact  in  this 
regard  are  the  following  :    depressed  fractures  of  the  skull  with 


52  THE    NERVOUS    SYSTEM. 

definite  motor  symptoms  ;  meningeal  or  brain  abscesser;  ;  localised 
haemorrhages,  either  from  skull  injury  or  diseased  arteries  ;  local- 
ised tumours  ;  the  facts  of  epileptic  seizures,  particularly  '  Jack- 
sonian  epilepsy  '  ;  aphasia. 

For  the  ends  of  localisation  all  such  cases  may  be  generalised 
into  two  classes  :  first,  Positive,  or  discharging  lesions,  where  the 
irregular  production  of  seemingly  voluntary  movements  indicates 
some  unusual  irritation  or  disturbance  of  the  cortical  nerve 
matter  ;  second,  Negative  or  destructive  lesions,  whei'e  the  com- 
plete paralysis  of  certain  movements  indicates  a  total  destruction 
of  cortical  nerve  matter.  When  in  each  class  the  movements 
concerned  are  the  same  {e.g.,  movements  of  the  arm),  the  Positive 
or  discharging  lesions  correspond  to  the  Stimulation  method  of 
experiment ;  the  negative  or  destructive  lesions,  to  the  Ablation 
method. 

General  Besults. 

Neither  the  results  of  physiological  experiment  nor  the  rough 
verification  of  disease  can  be  regarded  as  more  than  approxima- 
tions to  the  refinement  of  the  actual  working  of  the  cortex  :  the 
most  delicate  movements  induced  by  stimulation  are  yet  far  from 
'  the  soft  play  of  life  '  ;  but  undoubtedly  the  evidence  is  enough 
to  indicate  a  fundamental  sub-division  of  function  in  the  cortex, 
and  justifies  the  supex'ficial  mapping  of  it  into  certain  definite 
areas.  The  exact  interpretation  of  these  areas  is  a  separate 
question. 

(1)  Motor  Areas. — The  motor  areas  cover  the  Rolandic  Convo- 
lutions, that  is,  the  Ascending  Frontal  and  Ascending  Parietal ; 
part  of  the  First  Frontal  Convolution,  and  part  of  the  Marginal 
ConvoUition,  on  the  apposed  surfaces.  First,  if  the  Rolandic 
Convolutions  be  divided  horizontally  into  thirds,  the  upper  third 
will  be  the  chief  motor  area  of  the  leg  ;  the  middle  third,  of  the 
arm  ;  the  lower  third,  of  the  face,  mouth,  and  tongue.  Second,  the 
leg  area  extends  a  little  forward  on  the  first  Frontal  Convolution, 
and  downward  on  the  apposed  Marginal  Convolution.  Third, 
the  motor  area  for  articulate  speech  lies  in  the  Third  Frontal 
Convolution  of  the  Left  Hemisphere  (Broca's  Convolution). 

('2)  Sensory  Areas. — Of  the  sensory  areas,  Vision  occupies  the 
superficial  and  apposed  surfaces  of  the  Occipital  Lobe  ;  Hearing 


FUNCTIONAL    UNITY    OF    NERVOUS    SYSTEM.  58 

occupies  the  First  Temporal  Convolution  ;  Smell  probably  occupies 
the  hippocanipal  gyrus.  On  the  areas  of  the  other  senses  there 
is  no  general  agreement.  Cutaneous  Sensibility,  however,  is  held, 
on  the  analogy  of  the  monkey's  brain,  to  occupy  the  convolution 
just  overlying  the  corpus  callosum  (Gyrus  Fornicatus). 

(3)  Unassigned  Areas. — The  greater  part  of  the  Frontal  Lobe 
is  as  yet  unassigned  either  to  definite  movements  or  to  definite 
sensations.  In  certain  monkeys  (see  Foster,  p.  1041)  stimulation 
of  certain  areas  of  the  Frontal  Lobe  is  followed  by  certain  move- 
ments of  head  or  of  eyes.   As  yet  there  is  no  parallel  to  this  in  man. 

Of  Sensory  Areas  and  Motor  Areas  alike,  it  is  essential  to  remember 
that  thejf  represent,  not  organs,  but  activities  of  organs ;  not  senses 
and  muscles,  but  sensations  and  movements  (Hughlings- Jackson,  passim). 

Synthetic  Correlation. 

Functional  Unity  of  Nervous  System. 

The  brief  analysis  now^  presented  has  shown  the  principal 
parts  of  the  nervous  system  in  isolation  ;  it  remains  to  reassert 
their  essential  unity.  Every  part  of  the  nervous  system,  so  we 
have  seen,  is  in  direct  or  indirect  organic  relation  with  every 
other ;  the  interconnexions  are  so  numerous  and  so  intimate 
that  parts  widely  separate  may  yet  act  at  once  and  together  ;  and 
again  the  lower  grades,  the  spinal  cord  for  instance,  are  subject 
to  the  control  and  direction  of  the  higher.  Thus,  in  the  execution 
of  a  voluntary  movement,  or  in  the  receipt  of  conscious  sensations, 
or  in  the  diffused  expression  of  emotion,  the  sub-cortical  centres 
and  paths  are  as  essential  to  the  result  as  the  cortical  centres  and 
commissures.  One  aspect  of  the  mechanism,  as  our  analysis  has 
shown,  is  emphasised  in  the  cord,  another  in  the  middle  brain, 
still  another  in  the  hemispheres.  Nor  this  only  ;  but  the  whole 
system  affects,  and  in  some  obscure  way  controls,  the  nutrition  of 
the  body — the  digestive,  the  vascular,  the  glandular,  and  the  other 
systems  of  the  organic  life  ;  and  among  the  most  potent  to  this 
end  is  the  brain  itself,  which,  too,  is  associated  with  the  higher 
phenomena  of  voluntary  movement  and  conscious  feeling.  Nor, 
again,  does  the  division  of  the  cortex  itself  into  functional  areas 
more  conflict  with  the  notion  of  the  brain  as  a  single  organ  than 
the  separation  into  anatomical  parts  conflicts  with  the  functional 


54  THE    NEKVOUS    SYSTEM. 

unity  of  the  whole  body.  The  areas,  hke  the  parts,  bring  certain 
aspects  of  the  system  into  prominence,  the  cortex  acting  at  once 
as  central  register  and  central  exchange  for  all  incoming  and  out- 
going nerve  messages.  But  through  every  part  there  is  afunctional 
continuity — lower  centres  modifying  and  directing  higher,  higher 
stimulating  and  controlling  lower,  and  both  in  a  whirl  of  per- 
petual inter  action.  And  this  inter  active  play  of  nerve  effects, 
constructive  and  destructive,  is  the  physical  correlate  of  mental 
phenomena  as  in  this  work  conceived.  From  the  simple  reflexes 
of  the  cord,  through  the  complex  elaborations  of  the  middle  brain 
to  the  final  alchemies  of  the  cerebral  cortex,  the  rise  is  unbroken  ; 
and  no  one  part,  but  the  whole  system  in  its  unity,  shall  we  pro- 
perly regard  as  the  nervous  concomitant  of  Mind. 


MOVEMENT,   SENSE,  AND   INSTINCT. 


w 


E  now  enter  upon  the   exposition  of  Mind  in  the  fnll 
detail. 


In  the  First  Book,  which  is  to  comprehend  Movements, 
Sensations,  Appetites,  and  Instincts,  I  propose  to  deal 
with  what  may  be  termed  the  inferior  region  of  mind  ;  the 
inferiority  being  marked  by  the  absence  of  Intellect  and 
cultivation  in  any  great  degree.  This  is  the  region  wherein 
man  may  be  most  extensively  compared  with  the  brute, 
whose  intelligence  and  education  are  comparatively  small. 
When  the  powers  of  a  superior  intellect,  and  the  example 
and  acquirements  of  former  generations,  are  superadded  to 
the  primitive  sensations  and  instincts,  there  results  a  higher 
class  of  combinations,  belonging  to  an  advanced  stage  of  the 
exposition. 

It  will,  however,  be  remarked  as  a  novelty  in  the  plan 
thus  announced,  that  the  Appetites  and  Instincts  have  been 
included  in  the  same  department  as  the  Sensations.  In  the 
works  of  former  writers  on  Mental  Science, — as,  for  example, 
Beid,  Stewart,  Brown,  and  Mill,  those  portions  of  our  nature 
have  been  included  in  the  general  group  of  '  Active  Powers,' 
embracing  Desire,  Habit,  and  the  Will.  My  reasons  for 
departing  froin  the  example  of  these  eminent  writers  are 
the  following.  In  the  first  place,  the  Appetites  and  Instincts 
are  scarcely  at  all  connected  with  the  higher  operations  of 
intelligence,  and  hence  do  not  require  to  be  preceded  by 
the  exposition  of  the  Intellect  ;  everything  necessary  to  be 
said  respecting  them  may  be  given  as  soon  as  the  Sensations 
are  discussed.  In  the  second  place,  I  hope  to  make  it 
plain  that  the  illustration  of  the  Intellectual  processes  will 


58  MOVEMENT,    SENSE,    AND    INSTINCT. 

gain  by  the  circumstance  that  Appetite  and  Instinct  have 
been  previously  taken  account  of.  Thirdly,  the  connexion 
of  Appetite  with  Sensation  is  of  the  closest  kind.  Fourthly, 
as  regards  Instinct,  I  conceive  it  to  be  proper  to  render  an 
account  of  all  that  is  primitive  in  our  nature — all  our  un- 
taught activities, — before  entering  upon  the  process  of  acqui- 
sition as  treated  of  under  the  Intellect.  In  addition  to  these 
reasons  stated  in  advance,  I  trust  to  the  impression  produced 
by  the  effect  of  the  arrangement  itself,  for  the  complete 
justification  of  my  departure  from  the  plan  of  my  prede- 
cessors. 

The  present  Book  consists  of  four  chapters. 

The  subject  of  Chapter  I.  is  Action  and  Movement 
considered  as  spontaneous,  together  vi^ith  the  Feelings  and 
Perceptions  resulting  from  muscular  activity. 

Chapter  II.  comprehends  the  Senses  and  Sensations. 

Chapter  III.  treats  of  the  Appetites. 

Chapter  IV.  comprises  the  Instincts,  or  untaught  Move- 
ments, and  also  the  primitive  rudiments  of  Emotion  and 
of  Volition.  These  last  subjects  are  necessary  in  order  to 
complete  the  plan  of  the  Book,  which  professes  to  exhaust 
the  primitive  germs,  whether  of  Action  or  of  Feeling,  belong- 
ing to  our  nature,  before  proceeding  to  the  consideration  of 
intelligence  and  acquisition.  In  a  complete  scheme  of  the 
mind,  the  Intellect  is  properly  placed  midway  between  the 
instinctive  and  the  cultivated  emotions  and  activities,  being 
itself  the  instrument  for  converting  the  one  class  into  the 
other.  ' 


C  H  A  P  T  E  K     I. 

OF  SPONTANEOUS  ACTIVITY  AND  THE  FEELINGS  OF 

MOVEMENT. 

1.  rpHE  feelings  connected  with  the  movements  of  the 
J-  body  through  the  action  of  the  muscles  are  here 
constituted  into  a  distinct  class,  differing  from  the  sensa- 
tions of  the  five  senses.  They  are  often  treated  as  proceed- 
ing from  a  Sense  apart,  a  sixth,  or  Muscular  Sense  ;  in 
which  view  they  are  enrolled  under  the  genus  Sensation. 
That  they  are  to  be  dealt  with  as  a  group  by  themselves,  no 
less  than  sounds  or  sights,  is  generally  admitted. 

With  regard,  however,  to  the  position  of  the  group  in 
the  plan  or  arrangement  of  our  subject,  there  is  still  room 
for  difference  of  opinion.  In  my  judgment,  they  ought  not 
to  be  classed  with  the  Sensations  of  the  five  Senses  ;  and  I 
believe,  further,  that  the  consideration  of  them  conveniently 
precedes  the  exposition  of  the  Senses.  Tbe  reasons  are 
these  two  : — namely,  (1)  that  movement  may  take  the  start 
of  sensation,  and  is  so  far  independent  of  any  stimulus  from 
without  ;  and  (2)  that  action  is  a  more  intimate  and  insepar- 
able property  of  our  constitution  than  any  of  our  sensations, 
and  enters  as  a  component  part  into  every  one  of  the  senses, 
giving  them  the  character  of  compounds  while  it  itself  is  a 
simple  and  elementary  property.  These  assertions  require 
to  be  proved  in  detail;  but,  to  this  end,  it  is  first  advisable  to 
notice  briefly  the  mechanism  or  anatomy  of  the  muscular 
organs. 

OP  THE  MUSCULAR  SYSTEM. 

2.  Muscular  Tissue. — '  The  nuiscular  tissue  is  that  by  means 
of  which  the  active  movements  of  the  body  are  produced.     It 


60  THE    MUSCULAR    SYSTEM. 

consists  of  fibres,  which  are  for  the  most  part  collected  into  dis- 
tinct organs  called  "  muscles  "  ;  and,  in  this  form,  it  is  familiarly 
known  as  the  flesh  of  animals.  These  fibres,  from  a  character- 
istic that  they  exhibit  under  the  microscope,  are  usually  denomin- 
ated "  cross-striped  "  or  "striated"  :  they  are  many  of  them  under 
the  control  of  the  will,  and  are,  hence,  spoken  of  as  "  voluntary  " 
muscles.  Another  kind  of  muscular  tissue  is  disposed  round  the 
blood-vessels  and  most  of  the  hollow  viscera,  often  forming  a 
distinct  coat  or  coats  to  these.  In  this  kind,  the  fibres  do  not 
exhibit  the  same  cross-striated  appearance,  and  they  have,  there- 
fore, been  termed  in  contradistinction  "  plain  "  or  "  non-striated" 
muscular  fibres.  Most  of  these  are  entirely  withdi'awn  from  the 
control  of  the  will,  and  they  are,  consequently,  termed  involuntary. 
The  muscular  tissue  of  the  heart,  although  having  a  cross-striated 
appearance,  differs  in  many  respects  from  that  of  the  skeletal 
muscles ;  it  is,  on  this  account,  described  separately,  under  the 
term  "  cardiac  "  muscular  tissue.  Muscular  fibres  are  endowed 
with  contractility,  by  virtue  of  which  they  shrink  or  contract 
more  or  less  rapidly  under  the  influence  of  certain  causes  capable 
of  exciting  or  calling  into  play  the  property  in  question,  and,  for 
that  reason,  named  stimuli'  (Quain's  Anatomy,  10th  ed.,  p.  285). 

3.  Structure  of  Cross-Striated  or  Skeletal  JJuscles. — '  The  skeletal 
fibres  are  for  the  most  part  gathered  into  distinct  organs  or 
muscles  of  various  sizes  and  shapes,  but  are  most  generally  of 
an  oblong  form  and  fui'nished  with  tendons  at  each  extremity, 
by  which  they  are  fixed  to  the  bones.' 

'  The  fibres  are,  in  the  first  place,  collected  into  bundles  of  greater 
or  less  thickness, — named  fasciculi  or  laceiti.  The  fibres  are 
parallel  in  the  fasciculi ;  and  the  fasciculi  extend  continuously 
from  one  terminal  tendon  to  the  other,  unless,  in  those  instances, 
like  the  rectus  muscle  of  the  abdomen  and  the  digastric  of  the 
inferior  maxilla,  where  the  fleshy  part  is  interrupted  by  inter- 
posed tendinous  tissue.  The  fasciculi  also,  very  generally,  run 
parallel ;  and,  although  in  many  instances  they  converge  towards 
their  tendinous  attachment  with  various  degrees  of  inclination, 
yet,  in  the  voluntary  muscles,  they  do  not  interlace  with  one 
another. ' 

4.  Fibres:  their  Figure  and  Measurement.  — '  In  shape,  the 
fibres  are  cylindrical,  or  prismatic  with  rounded  angles.     Their 


STRUCTURE    OF    FIBRES.  61 

diameter  varies  greatly  even  in  each  muscle,  although,  for  the 
most  part,  a  prevailing  standard  is  found  to  exist  in  every  muscle. 
The  largest  fibres,  in  human  muscles,  average  about  ^4^  (0"1  mm.) 
in  diameter  ;  the  smallest  are  only  about  one-tenth  of  that  width.' 

Structure  of  the  Fibres :  sarcolemma. — 'A  muscular  fibre  ma}^  be 
said  to  consist  of  a  soft  substance,  enclosed  in  a  tubular  sheath. 
The  latter  is  named  the  sarcolemma.  When  viewed  by  trans- 
mitted light,  even  with  a  comparatively  low  power  of  the  micro- 
scope, the  fibres,  which  are  clear  and  pellucid  in  aspect,  appear 
marked  with  parallel  stripes  or  bands,  alternately  light  and  dark, 
passing  across  them  with  great  regularity ;  and  this,  not  only  at 
the  surface,  but,  as  may  be  seen  by  altering  the  focus  of  the  micro- 
scope, throughout  their  substance  also.  In  a  moderately  extended 
fibre,  about  eight  or  nine  dark  and  as  many  light  bands  may  be 
counted  in  the  length  of  yoVo  o^  ^^^  inch,  which  would  give  about 
_._i^_  as  the  breadth  of  each.  The  proper  substance  of  the  fibre 
presents,  besides  the  transverse  bands,  an  appearance  of  longi- 
tudinal striation.  On  separating  the  fibre  with  needles,  espe- 
cially after  hardening  in  alcohol,  it  may  be  broken  up  longi- 
tudinally into  fine  longitudinal  elements  of  a  rounded  or  angular 
section,  which  run  from  end  to  end  of  the  fibre  [muscle  columns 
or  sarco-styles).  These  particles  may  be  termed  sarcous  elements' 
(Bowman). 

The  further  analysis  of  muscle  discovers,  in  the  contraction 
motion  of  the  semi-fluid  contractile  substance  of  the  sarcous  ele- 
ments, many  analogies  to  the  amoeboid  movements  of  protoplasm, 
and  traces  the  striated  appearances  to  very  minute  differences  of 
structure  and  activity  (ib.,  pp.  293,  294). 

5.  '  Nerves  of  Voluntary  Muscle. — The  nerves  of  a  voluntary 
muscle  are  of  considerable  size.  Their  branches  pass  between 
the  fasciculi  and  repeatedly  unite  with  each  other  in  the  form  of 
a  plexus,  which  is  for  the  most  part  confined  to  a  small  portion 
of  the  length  of  the  muscle  or  muscular  division  in  which  it  lies. 
From  one  or  more  of  such  primary  plexuses  nervous  twigs  pro- 
ceed, and  form  finer  plexuses  composed  of  slender  bundles,  each 
containing  not  more  than  two  or  three  dai-k-bordered  nerve  fibres, 
whence  single  fibres  pass  off  between  the  muscular  fibres  and 
divide  into  branches  which  are  finally  distributed  to  the 
tissue.'      '  The  branches  retain  their  medullary  sheath  until  they 


62  SPONTANEOrS    ACTIVITY. 

reach  the  sarcolemma,  when  the  white  substance  abruptly  ter- 
minates, while  the  neurilemma  becomes  continuous  with  the 
sarcolevima.  .  .  .  The  axis-cylinder  as  it  passes  into  the  fibre 
forms  a  clear  localised  branched  expansion  which  lies  immediately 
under  the  sarcolemma.  .  .  .  The  termination  of  the  axis-cylinder 
is  not  a  continuous  plate  .  .  .  but  appears  when  viewed  from  the 
surface  in  the  form  of  an  arborescent  figure,  the  branches  of 
which  do  not,  according  to  Eanvier,  anastomose.  ...  It  would 
appear  that  in  mammals  each  muscular  fibre  has  but  one  terminal 
structure,  and  receives  consequently  but  one  nerve  fibre.  As, 
moreover,  the  fibres  of  a  nerve  undergo  division,  probably  re- 
peated di\dsion,  before  ending,  it  follows  that  one  fibre  in  a  nerve 
root  or  trunk  may  supply  several  muscular  fibres  '  {ib.,  p.  350). 

The  structure  above  described  is  the  Motor  End  organ  or 
plate. 

PROOFS  OF  SPONTANEOUS  ACTIVITY. 

6.  We  have  now  to  consider  the  evidence  that  can  be 
adduced  for  the  existence  of  movements  anterior  to,  and 
independent  of,  the  sensations  of  the  senses. 

(1)  Among  the  functions  of  the  spinal  cord,  as  may  be 
seen,  is  the  pecuHar  property  denominated  the  maintenance 
of  muscular  tone.  In  other  words,  the  muscles  in  the  living 
body  are  alw^ays  more  or  less  on  the  stretch.  The  nerve 
stimuli  that  put  them  into  action  for  the  purposes  of  life 
are  merely  occasional,  being  for  long  intervals  wholly  in- 
termitted. There  is,  nevertheless,  a  residue  of  contractile 
energy  w'hich  never  wholly  disappears.  Investigation  shows 
that  this  is  the  result  of  an  effluence  of  nervous  force  from 
the  spinal  cord,  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  stimulus 
supplied  by  our  cerebral  or  mental  operations.  This  proves 
that  the  nerve  centres  can,  of  themselves,  send  forth  prompt- 
ings to  action,  and  that  we  do  not  necessarily  w^ait  for 
influences  originating  in  the  outward  senses  and  passing  to 
the  centres  by  the  ingoing  nervous  currents. 

The  only  circumstance  that  seems  to  militate  against  the 
strict  character  of  the  supposition  now  made  is  the  possible 
existence  of  an  ingoing  current  from  the  muscles  themselves 


PROOFS    OF    SPONTANEITY.  63 

to  aid  or  augment  what  seems  the  natural  spontaneity  of 
the  cord  itself.  This  may  or  may  not  be.  The  appearances 
point  to  a  conjoined  influence  of  purely  central  emanation, 
and  of  impulses  by  the  afferent  nerves  belonging  to  the 
muscle.  For  the  purposes  of  the  present  argument,  this 
consideration  is  immaterial.  The  antithesis  that  concerns 
the  questioQ  at  issue  is  between  stimulation  from  the  senses, 
properly  so  called,  and  stimulation  independent  of  the  senses, 
deriving  its  origin  from  the  motor  centres  of  the  nervous 
system. 

(2)  A  still  more  specific  example  of  purely  central 
emanation  is  the  permanent  closure  of  the  muscles  named 
sphincters,  which  is  also  a  property  of  the  spinal  cord. 
Without  a  perpetual  central  emanation,  this  property  is 
inexplicable. 

(3)  It  is  not  altogether  irrelevant  to  cite  the  activity 
maintained  by  involuntary  muscles,  as  showing  the  existence 
of  a  mode  of  power  originating  with  the  nerve  centres. 
Nervous  influence  is  required  for  keeping  up  the  circulation 
of  the  blood,  the  movement  of  the  food  along  the  alimentary 
canal,  etc.  ;  all  which  points  to  an  inward  evolution  of  force, 
although  modified  by  stimulation  in  the  several  organs.  It 
may  be  said  that,  when  the  movements  are  once  commenced, 
the  completion  of  one  may  be  a  stimulus  to  the  succeeding ; 
still  the  question  would  recur — by  what  force  does  the  heart 
begin  to  beat  ? 

Thus  the  notion  of  an  initiative  existing  in  the  nerve 
centres  is  borne  out  by  the  tonicity,  by  the  action  of  the 
sphincters,  by  the  still  more  energetic  movements  of  rotation, 
and  by  the  analogy  of  the  involuntary  muscles.  Seeing  that 
the  spinal  cord  and  the  other  inferior  ganglia  are  found 
capable  of  originating  muscular  contractions,  we  are  entitled 
to  suppose  that  the  larger  masses  of  the  brain  may  be  the 
sources  of  a  much  more  abundant  and  conspicuous  activity 
than  these  examples  afford.  The  proofs  that  follow  are 
intended  to  put  in  evidence  the  existence  of  such  movements. 

(4)  In  wakening  from  sleep,  movement  precedes  sensa- 


64  SPONTANEOUS    ACTIVITY. 

tion.  If  light  were  essential  to  the  movements  concerned 
in  vision,  it  would  be  impossible  to  open  the  eyes.  The  act 
of  wakening  from  sleep  can  hardly  be  considered  in  any 
other  view  than  as  the  reviving  of  the  activity  by  a  rush 
of  nervous  power  to  the  muscles,  followed  by  the  exposure 
of  the  senses  to  the  influences  of  the  outer  world.  The  first 
symptom  of  awakening  that  presents  itself  is  a  general  com- 
motion of  the  frame,  i.e.,  a  number  of  spontaneous  movements 
— the  stretching  of  the  limbs,  the  opening  of  the  eyes,  the 
expansion  of  the  features, — to  all  which  succeeds  the  revival 
of  the  sensibility  to  outward  things.  Mysterious  as  the 
nature  of  sleep  is,  in  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge,  we 
are  not  precluded  from  remarking  so  notable  a  circumstance 
as  the  priority  of  action  to  sensibility,  at  the  moment  of 
wakening.* 

But  if  this  be  a  fact,  we  seem  to  prove,  beyond  a  doubt, 
that  the  renewed  action  must  originate  with  the  nerve 
centres  themselves.  The  first  gestures  must  be  stimulated 
from  within  ;  afterwards,  they  are  linked  with  the  gestures 
and  movements  suggested  by  sense  and  revived  by  intelli- 
gence and  will.  The  higher  degree  of  permanent  tension 
in  the  muscles  when  we  are  awake  is  owing  partly  to  the 
increased  central  force  of  the  waking  states,  and  partly  to  the 
stimuhis  of  sensation.  But,  in  all  cases,  the  share  due  to  the 
centres  must  be  considerable,  although  it  is  difficult  to  esti- 
mate it  when  mixed  up  with  sensational  stimulus.  Thus, 
the  force  that  keeps  the  eye  open  throughout  the  day  is,  in  a 
certain  measure,  due  to  the  spontaneous  energy  that  opened 
it  at  the  waking  moment ;  for,  that  force  does  not  necessarily 
cease  when  the  other  force,  the  stimulus  of  light,  com- 
mences. 

*  This  is  maintained  by  Aristotle  [Physica,  viii.  2).  He  says  that 
these  wakening  movements  come  not  from  sense,  but  from  an  internal 
source.  Some  writers  have  taken  the  opposite  view ;  but  they  have  not,  so 
far  as  I  am  aware,  adduced  any  decided  facts  in  support  of  it.  If  we  cannot 
establish  an  absolute  priority  of  movement  in  the  act  of  awakening,  we  may 
at  least  maintain  that  movement  concurs  with,  and  does  not  follow,  the  re- 
animation  of  the  senses. 


EARLY    MOVEMENTS    OF    INFANCY.  65 

We  are  at  liberty  to  suppose  that  the  nourished  condition 
of  the  nerves  and  nerve  centres,  consequent  on  the  night's 
repose,  is  the  cause  of  that  burst  of  spontaneous  exertion  at 
the  moment  of  awakening.  The  antecedent  of  the  activity  is 
physical,  rather  than  mental ;  and  this  must  be  the  case  with 
spontaneous  energy  in  general.  V/hen  coupled  with  sen- 
sation, the  character  of  the  activity  is  modified  so  as  to 
render  the  spontaneity  much  less  discernible. 

(5)  The  next  proof  is  derived  from  the  early  movements 
of  Infancy.  These  I  look  upon  as  in  great  part  due  to  the 
spontaneous  action  of  the  centres.  The  mobility  displayed 
in  the  first  stage  of  infant  existence  is  known  to  be  very 
great  ;  and  it  continues  to  be  shown  in  an  exuberant  degree 
all  through  childhood  and  early  youth.  This  mobility  can 
be  attributed  only  to  one  of  three  causes.  It  may  arise  from 
the  stimulus  of  Sensation, — that  is,  from  the  sights,  sounds, 
contacts,  temperature,  etc.,  of  outward  things.  It  may,  in 
the  second  place,  be  owing  to  Emotions,  —as  love,  fear,  anger. 
Or,  lastly,  the  cause  may  be  Spontaneous  energy. 

The  two  first-named  influences,  external  sensation  and 
inward  emotion,  are  undoubted  causes  of  active  gesticulation 
and  movement.  But  the  question  is,  Do  they  explain  the 
whole  activity  of  early  infancy  and  childhood  ?  I  think  not ; 
and  on  evidence  such  as  the  following.  We  can  easily 
observe  when  any  one  is  under  the  influence  of  vivid  sensa- 
tion ;  we  can  tell  whether  a  child  is  acted  on  by  sights,  or 
sounds,  or  tastes.  And,  if  the  observation  is  carefully  made, 
I  believe  it  will  be  found  that,  although  the  gesticulations 
of  infants  are  frequently  excited  by  surrounding  objects, 
there  are  times  when  such  influence  is  very  Httle  felt,  and 
when,  nevertheless,  the  mobility  of  the  frame  is  strongly 
manifested.  With  regard  to  inward  feelings  or  emotions, 
the  proof  is  not  so  easy ;  but  here,  too,  there  is  a  certain 
character  belonging  to  emotional  movements  that  serves  to 
discriminate  them  when  they  occur.  The  movements,  ges- 
tures, and  cries  of  internal  pain  are  well  marked  ;  so,  plea- 
surable feeling  is  distinguished  by  the  equally  characteristic 

5 


66  SPONTANEOUS    ACTIVITY. 

flow  of  smiles  and  ecstatic  utterance.  If  there  be  times  of 
active  gesticulation  and  exercise  that  show  no  connexion 
with  the  sights  and  sounds  or  other  influence  of  the  outer 
world,  and  that  have  no  peculiar  emotional  character  of  the 
pleasurable  or  painful  kind,  we  can  ascribe  them  to  nothing 
but  the  mere  abundance  and  exuberance  of  self-acting  mus- 
cular and  cerebral  energy,  which  rises  and  falls  with  the 
vigour  and  nourishment  of  the  general  system. 

The  activity  of  young  animals  in  general,  and  of  animals 
remarkable  for  their  active  endowments  (as  the  insect  tribe), 
may  be  cited  as  strongly  favouring  the  hypothesis  of  spon- 
taneity. When  the  kitten  plays  with  a  worsted  ball,  we 
always  attribute  the  overflowing  fulness  of  moving  energy  to 
the  creature's  own  inward  stimulus,  to  which  the  ball  merely 
serves  for  a  pretext.  So,  an  active  young  hound,  refreshed 
by  sleep  or  kept  in  confinement,  pants  for  being  let  loose,  not 
because  of  anything  that  attracts  his  view  or  quickens  up 
his  ear,  but  because  a  rush  of  activity  courses  through  his 
members,  rendering  him  uneasy  till  the  confined  energy  has 
found  vent  in  a  chase  or  a  run,  We  are  at  no  loss  to  dis- 
tinguish this  kind  of  acti\dty  from  that  awakened  bj^  sen- 
sation or  emotion ;  and  the  distinction  is  recognised  in  the 
modes  of  interpreting  the  movements  and  feelings  of  animals. 
When  a  rider  speaks  of  his  horse  as  '  fresh,'  he  implies  that 
the  natural  activity  is  undischarged,  and  pressing  for  vent  ; 
the  excitement  caused  by  mixing  in  a  chase  or  in  a  battle  is 
a  totally  different  thing  from  the  spontaneous  vehemence  of 
a  full-fed  and  underworked  animal. 

It  is  customary,  in  like  manner,  to  attribute  much  of 
the  activity  of  early  human  life,  neither  to  sensation  nor  to 
emotion,  but  to  '  freshness,'  or  the  current  of  undischarged 
activity.  There  are  moments  when  high  health,  natural 
vigour,  and  spontaneous  outpouring,  are  the  obvious  ante- 
cedents of  ebullient  activity.  The  very  necessity  of  bodily 
exercise  felt  by  every  one,  and  most  of  all  by  the  young,  is  a 
proof  of  the  existence  of  a  fund  of  energy  that  comes  round 
with  the  day  and  presses  to  be  discharged.     Doubtless,  it 


OPERATION    OF   EXCITEMENT.  67 

may  be  said  that  this  necessity  may  proceed  from  a  state  of 
the  muscles,  and  not  from  the  centres ;  that  an  uneasy 
craving  rises  periodically  in  the  muscular  tissue,  and  is 
transmitted  as  a  stimulus  to  the  centres,  awakening  a  nerv- 
ous current  of  activity  in  return.  Even  if  this  were  true,  it 
would  not  materially  alter  the  case  we  are  labouring  to 
establish — namely,  a  tendency  in  the  moving  system  to  go 
into  action,  without  any  antecedent  sensation  from  without 
or  emotion  ftom  within,  or  without  any  stimulus  extraneous 
to  the  moving  apparatus  itself.  But  we  do  not  see  any 
ground  for  excluding  the  agency  of  the  centres,  in  the  com- 
mencing stimulus  of  periodical  active  exercise.  The  same 
central  energy  that  keeps  up  the  muscular  tonicity,  must  be 
allowed  to  share  in  the  self-originating  muscular  acti\dty. 
If  so,  the  demand  for  exercise  that  comes  round  upon  every 
actively  constituted  nature  is  a  strong  confirmation  of  the 
view  we  are  now  engaged  in  maintaining. 

Taking  together,  therefore,  the  initial  movements  of 
infancy,  the  mobility  of  early  years  generally,  the  observa- 
tions on  young  and  active  members  of  the  brute  creation, 
and  the  craving  for  exercise  universall}^  manifested,  we  have 
a  large  body  of  evidence  in  favour  of  the  doctrine  of  spon- 
taneous action. 

(6)  The  operation  of  what  is  termed  Excitement  like- 
wise corroborates  the  position  we  are  now  upholding.  The 
physical  fact  of  the  excited  condition  is  an  increase  in  the 
quantity,  or  a  change  in  the  quality,  of  the  blood  in  the 
brain.  The  mental  fact  is  the  increase  of  mental  energy  in 
all  its  modes.  A  stimulus  applied  in  such  a  condition  pro- 
duces a  more  than  usual  response  ;  and  there  is  manifested 
an  incontinent  activity,  irrespective  of  all  stimulation.  The 
outward  movements  are  hurried  and  uncontrollable,  the 
feelings  are  inore  intense,  the  thoughts  are  rapid  ;  every 
mental  exertion  is  heightened.  ^Yhen  the  excitement 
rises  to  the  morbid  pitch,  as  in  disease,  or  under  the  in- 
fluence of  drugs,  such  as  strychnine,  there  is  an  enormous 
expenditure  of  force,  apart  from  any  stimulation  whatsoever  : 


68  SPONTANEOUS    ACTIVITY. 

I 

the  altered  nutrition  of  the  brain  is  the  sole  influence  con- 
cerned. 

(7)  As  a  further  confirmation,  it  may  be  remarked  that 
sensibility  and  activity  do  not  rise  and  fall  together  ;  on  the 
contrarj',  they  often  stand  in  an  inverse  proportion  to  each 
other.  By  comparing  different  characters,  or  the  different 
states  of  the  same  individual,  we  may  test  the  truth  of  this 
observation.  The  strong,  restless,  active  temperament  is  not 
always  marked  as  the  most  sensitive  and  emotional,  but  is 
very  frequently  seen  to  be  the  least  affected  by  these  influ- 
ences. The  activity  that  seems  to  sustain  itself,  costing  the 
individual  almost  no  effort,  being  his  delight  rather  than  his 
drudgery,  and  very  little  altered  by  the  presence  or  the  ab- 
sence of  stimulus  or  ends,  is  manifestly  a  constitutional  self- 
prompting  force  ;  and  such  activity  is  a  well-known  fact.  It 
is  one  of  the  fundamental  distinctions  of  character,  both 
in  individuals  and  in  races  ;  being  seen  in  the  restless  adven- 
turer, the  indefatigable  traveller,  the  devotee  of  business,  the 
incessant  meddler  in  affairs,  in  the  man  that  hates  repose 
and  despises  passive  enjoyments.  It  is  the  pushing  energy 
of  Philip  of  Macedon  and  William  the  Conqueror.  On  the 
other  hand,  sensitive  and  emotional  natures,  which  are  to  be 
found  abundantly  among  men,  and  still  more  abundantly 
among  women,  are  not  active  in  a  corresponding  degree, 
while  the  kind  of  activity  displayed  by  them  is  plainly  seen 
to  result  more  from  some  stimulus  or  object,  than  from  an 
innate  exuberance  of  action.  The  activity  prompted  by  ends, 
by  something  to  be  gained  or  avoided,  is  easily  distinguished 
from  the  other  by  its  being  closely  adapted  to  those  ends,  and 
by  its  ceasing  when  they  have  been  accomplished.  He  that 
labours  merely  on  the  stimulus  of  reward  rests  when  he  has 
acquired  a  competency,  and  is  never  confounded  with  the 
man  whose  life  consists  in  giving  vent  to  a  naturally  active 
temperament,  or  a  superabundance  of  muscular  and  central 
energy. 

(8)  Lastly,  it  will  be  afterwards  shown  that,  without 
spontaneity,  the  growth  of  the  Will  is  inexplicable. 


LOCOMOTIVE    MEMBERS.  69 

Regions  of  SporitaneouH  Activity. 

7.  The  muscles,  for  the  most  part,  act  in  groups ;  being 
associated  together  by  the  organisation  of  the  nervous 
centres,  for  the  performance  of  actions  requiring  concurrent 
movements. 

The  Locomotive  Apparatus  is,  perhaps,  the  most  conspicu- 
ous of  the  vohuitary  groups.  This  involves  (taking  vertebrate 
animals  in  general)  the  limbs — or  the  anterior  and  posterior 
extremities  with  their  numerous  muscles — and  the  trunk  of 
the  body,  which  in  all  animals  chimes  in,  more  or  less,  with 
the  movements  of  the  extremities.  In  the  outbursts  of 
spontaneous  action,  locomotive  effort  (walking,  running, 
flying,  swimming,  etc.)  is  one  of  the  foremost  tendencies  ; 
having  the  advantage  of  occupying  a  large  portion  of  the 
muscular  system,  and  thus  giving  vent  to  a  copious  stream 
of  accumulated  power.  No  observant  person  can  have  failed 
to  notice  instances  where  locomotion  resulted  from  purely 
spontaneous  effort.  In  the  human  subject,  the  locomotive 
members  are  long  in  being  adapted  to  their  proper  use,  and, 
in  the  meantime,  they  expend  their  activity  in  the  dancing- 
gestures  and  kicking  movements  manifested  by  the  infant 
in  the  arms  of  the  nurse. 

The  locomotive  action  agitates  the  whole  length  of  the 
spine  up  to  the  articulations  of  the  neck  and  head.  The 
members  concerned,  however,  have  many  movements  besides, 
especially  in  man  ;  and  these  are  found  to  arise  no  less  readily. 
Thus,  the  movements  of  the  arms  are  extremely  various,  and 
all  of  them  may  burst  out  in  the  spontaneous  way.  The 
grasp  of  the  hand  is  the  result  of  an  extensive  muscular 
endowment,  and  at  an  early  stage  manifests  itself  in  the 
round  of  the  innate  and  chance  movements. 

The  erection  and  bending  of  the  body  are  outlets  for 
spontaneous  activity, — especially  erection,  which  implies 
the  greater  effort.  AVhen  superfluous  power  cannot  run  into 
the  more  abundant  opening  of  locomotive  movement,  it  ex- 
pends itself  in  stretching  the  body  and  limbs  to  the  extreme 


70  SPONTANEOUS    ACTIVITY. 

point  of  tension.     The  erection  extends  to  the  carriage  of  the 
head  and  the  distension  of  the  eyes,  mouth,  and  features. 

The  vocal  organs  are  a  distinct  and  notable  group  of  the 
active  members.  The  utterance  of  the  voice  is  unequivocally 
owing,  on  many  occasions,  to  mere  profusion  of  central  energy, 
although  more  liable  than  almost  any  other  mode  of  action  to 
be  stimulated  from  without.  In  man  the  flow  of  words  and 
song,  in  animals  the  outbursts  of  barking,  braying,  howling, 
are  often  manifestly  owing  to  no  other  cause  than  the  '  fresh  ' 
condition  of  the  vocal  organs. 

The  eyes  have  their  independent  centre  of  energy,  whence 
results  a  spontaneously  sustained  gaze  upon  the  outer  world. 
When  no  object  specially  arrests  the  attention,  the  acti^^ty  of 
the  visual  movements  must  be  considered  as  mainly  due  to 
central  power.  In  a  person  deprived  of  the  sight  of  one  eye, 
we  find  that  eye  still  kept  open,  but  not  so  wide  as  the  other. 
The  mouth  is  also  subject  to  various  movements,  which  may 
often  be  the  result  of  mere  internal  power,  as  is  seen  in  the 
contortions  indulged  in  after  a  period  of  immobility  and  re- 
straint. The  jaws  find  their  use  in  masticating  the  food,  but, 
failing  this,  they  may  put  forth  their  force  in  biting  things 
put  into  the  mouth,  as  in  children  not  yet  arrived  at  the  age 
of  chewing.  The  tongue  is  an  organ  of  great  natural  activity, 
being  endowed  with  many  muscles,  and  having  a  wide  scope 
of  action.  In  the  spontaneous  action  of  the  voice,  which 
is  at  first  an  inarticulate  howl,  the  play  of  the  tongue,  com- 
mencing of  its  own  accord,  gives  the  articulate  character  to 
utterance,  and  lays  a  foundation  for  the  acquirenient  of 
speech. 

i\.mong  the  special  aptitudes  manifested  among  the  lower 
animals,  we  find  marked  examples  of  the  spontaneity  of  action. 
The  destructive  weapons  belonging  to  so  many  tribes,  are  fre- 
quently brought  into  play  without  any  stimulus  or  provocation, 
and  when  no  other  reason  can  be  rendered  than  the  necessity  for 
discharging  an  accumulation  of  inward  energy.  As  the  battery 
of  the  torpedo  becomes  charged  by  the  mere  course  of  nutrition, 
and  requires  to  be  periodically  relieved  by  being  poured   upon 


OBJECTIONS    TO    THE    DOCTRINE.  71 

some  object  or  other,  so  we  may  suppose  that  the  jaws  of  the 
tiger,  the  fangs  of  the  serpent,  the  spinning  apparatus  of  the 
spider,  require  at  intervals  to  have  some  objects  to  spend  them- 
selves upon.  It  is  said  that  the  constructiveness  of  the  bee  and 
the  beaver  incontinently  manifests  itself  even  when  there  is  no 
end  to  be  gained  ;  a  circumstance  not  at  all  singular,  if  we  admit 
the  spontaneous  nature  of  many  of  the  active  endowments  of 
men  and  animals. 

The  spontaneous  activity  is  alv\^ays  observed  to  rise  and 
fall  with  the  vigour  and  state  of  nutrition  of  the  general 
system;  being  abundant  in  states  of  high  health,  and  deficient 
during  sickness,  hunger,  and  fatigue.  Energetic  movements, 
moreover,  arise  under  the  influence  of  drugs  and  stimulants 
acting  on  the  nerves  and  nerve  centres ;  also,  from  fever  and 
other  ailments.  Convulsions,  spasms,  and  unnatural  excite- 
ment, are  diseased  forms  of  the  spontaneous  discharge  of 
the  active  energy  of  the  nerve  centres. 

While  the  doctrine  of  Spontaneity,  to  the  extent  here  con- 
tended for,  has  been  accepted  by  many,  it  has  been  utterly  re- 
pudiated by  some  authorities.  As  far  as  I  am  aware,  no  one  has 
attempted  to  refute  the  foregoing  arguments  seriatim,  so  that  I 
cannot  discover  where  the  weakness  is  supposed  to  lie,  and, 
consequently,  am  not  able  to  reconsider  them  with  a  view  to 
abandon  or  modify  such  as  are  defective. 

The  only  serious  hostile  argument  that  I  have  met  with  is 
based  on  the  theoretical  absurdity  of  referring  our  conscious 
movements  to  a  purely  physical  cause  or  antecedent.  Dr. 
Martineau  has  advanced  the  objection  in  this  form, — namely, 
that  the  doctrine  assumes  our  movements  to  proceed  from  a 
'  psychological  nothing '.  Dr.  James  Ward  expresses  himself  to 
nearly  the  same  effect,  in  saying  that  it  '  makes  movement 
precede  feeling  instead  of  following  it '. 

Whoever  takes  this  very  high  ground  on  consideration  of 
theory  is  bound  to  explain  away  all  the  cases  where  movements 
apparently  arise  without  any  previous  feeling,  or  any  known 
mode  of  consciousness  whatever.  This,  to  the  best  of  my  know- 
ledge, has  never  been  attempted. 


72  SPONTANEOUS    ACTIVITY. 

The  arguments  that  I  have  adduced,  eight  in  number,  are 
not  all  equally  cogent  and  irrefragable.  Several  of  them  might 
be  evaded,  or  be  shown  to  be  in  themselves  unsatisfactory, — 
although  of  concurrent  value  as  pointing  to  the  conclusion. 

Of  natural  healthy  movements,  perhaps  the  strongest  case  is 
parturition.  This  I  have  dwelt  upon  in  The  Emotions  and  the 
Will,  p.  304,  making  use  of  the  language  furnished  to  me  by  Dr. 
Sharpey,  who  suggested  the  example  as  strongly  confirming  my 
position. 

The  next  argument  in  point  of  cogency  is  the  action  of  drugs 
that  induce  tetanus  of  the  muscles.  In  this  case,  also,  antece- 
dent feeling  is  entirely  absent ;  the  subject  being  wholly  insensible, 
except  to  the  muscular  strain.  Strychnine  imparts  a  morbid 
stimulus  to  the  motor  centres,  while  the  centres  of  sense,  are, 
during  tetanus,  in  abeyance. 

It  is  not  essential  to  the  doctrine  of  Spontaneity  to  maintain 
that  no  afferent  current  w^hatsoever  coincides  with  the  outgoing 
motor  currents.     What  is  contended  for  is  as  follows  : — 

(1)  That  a  feeling  or  conscious  state  is  not  an  indispensable 
antecedent  or  cause  of  movements.  Dr.  Ward's  position  that 
feeling  in  all  cases  precedes  movement  is,  therefore,  met  by  a 
direct  negative. 

(2)  Although  there  may  be  a  sensory  or  afferent  stimulus  when 
movements  arise,  the  two  have  no  relation  of  degree  or  intensity  : 
the  sensory  stimulus  may  be  of  the  feeblest  kind,  while  the  motory 
may  be  of  any  amount.  Both  physiologically  and  psychologically, 
there  are  two  independent  sources  of  movement  evident ;  the 
one  growing  out  of  the  sensory  or  ingoing  current,  the  other 
growing  oat  of  the  motory  centres,  irrespective  of  stiniulus  from 
without. 

It  is  this  absence  of  concurrent  intensities,  or  regulated  con- 
comitance of  sense  and  movement,  that  imparts  to  the  arguinents 
from  infancy,  and  from  young  and  active  animals,  an  amount  of 
cogency  scarcely  inferior  to  the  instances  of  Parturition  and 
Tetanus  from  strychnine.  Of  the  same  tenor  is  the  example 
from  the  contrast  between  Activity  and  Sensitiveness  in  charac- 
ter. Allowance  being  made  for  the  presence  of  feeble  afferent 
currents  along  with  efferent,  in  tonicity  and  in  the  permanent 
closure    of   the   sphincters,    the    arguments   grounded    on   these 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    THE    FEELINGS.  73 

examples  harmonise  with  the  general  contention,  and  cannot 
easily  be  set  aside. 

The  bearing  of  the  doctrine,  as  now  qualified,  on  the  Growth 
of  the  Will  remains  to  be  expounded  under  that  head. 

The  only  other  remax'k  necessary  at  this  stage  is  the  following. 
It  is  a  much  discussed  question,  as  will  afterwards  be  seen, 
whether  muscular  sensibility  accompanies  the  outgoing  nervous 
currents  or  results  exclusively  from  ingoing  currents  by  sensory 
nerves.  It  will  be  maintained,  at  the  proper  place,  that  neither 
of  these  hypotheses  has  any  strictly  psychological  bearing :  our 
classification  of  the  varieties  of  muscular  feeling  will  be  the  same 
under  either  alternative. 

It  may  seem,  however,  that,  in  the  foregoing  arguments  for 
spontaneous  activity,  the  first  of  the  two  hypotheses  is  assumed 
as  a  part  of  the  case  and  as  essential  to  the  argument.  But  this 
is  not  really  meant,  and  the  language  is  retained  merely  for 
convenience  in  the  expression  (see  p.  79). 


THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS. 

8.  We  are  now  brought  to  the  express  consideration  of 
the  first  class  of  phenomena  proper  and  peculiar  to  mind, — 
namely,  States  of  Feeling.  These  we  have  from  the  outset 
recognised  as  one  of  the  three  distinct  manifestations  of  our 
mental  nature.  To  give  a  systematic  and  precise  account 
of  the  states  of  human  consciousness — a  Natural  History  of 
the  Feelings, — is  one  of  the  aims  of  the  science  of  mind. 

Classifying  and  Describing  the  Feelings. 

In  order  the  better  to  class  and  to  delineate  the  feelings,  we 
follow  the  example  of  the  Natural  History  Sciences. 

The  primary  divisions  are,  to  a  great  degree,  marked  out  for 
us.  This  applies  chiefly  to  the  Senses  :  every  Sense  organ  has 
a  generic  sensibility,  under  which  we  can  distinguish  species  and 
sub-species.  The  Emotions  are  not  so  well  demarcated  physically  ; 
but,  by  using  all  the  aids  that  we  possess,  we  can  make  out  a 
•classification  here  also. 

For  obtaining  descriptive  characters  to  the  various    species, 


74  THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS. 

we  start  from  the  threefold  partition  of  mind  as  a  whole — Feeling^. 
Volition,  and  Intellect. 

A  certain  number  of  characters  belong  to  the  Feelings,  viewed 
in  their  own  proper  nature  :  such  are  pleasure,  pain,  and  intensity 
or  degree.  But,  besides  these,  every  feeling  has  a  certain  bearing 
on  the  Will,  as  a  motive,  or  negation  of  motive  ;  from  which 
circumstance  a  descriptive  peculiarity  may  be  derived.  So  with 
the  Intellect.  Inasmuch  as  the  feelings  play  a  great  part  in  our 
intellectual  operations,  they  may  be  compared,  contrasted,  and 
delineated  oii  this  head  also. 

Moreover,  we  have  seen  that  the  fundamental  fact  of  mind  is 
the  union  with  the  body.  The  Body  is  the  medium  of  all  the 
external  manifestations  of  our  mental  workings.  It  is  impossible 
to  avoid  noticing  these  indications,  or  to  fail  making  use  of  them 
in  our  estimates  of  the  feelings. 

Our  choice  of  the  best  mode  of  bringing  forward  these  characters 
must  follow  the  nature  of  the  case.  In  the  feelings,  as  now  treated, 
the  bodily  side  is  best  given  in  advance,  owing  to  the  danger  of 
confounding  Body  and  Mind  in  places  where  they  ought  to  be 
kept  distinct. 

The  Plan,  as  a  whole,  runs  as  follows  : — 

Physical  Bide. 

Bodily  Origin.     (For  Sensations  chiefly.) 
Bodily  Diffusion,  expression,  or  embodiment. 

Mental  Side. 

I.  Characters  as  Feeling. 

Quality, — i.e.,  Pleasure,  Pain,  Indifference. 
Degree  : 

Intensity,  or  acuteness. 
Quantity,  mass,  or  volume. 
II.   Volitional  characters. 

Mode  of  influencing  the  Will,  or  Motives  to  Action. 
III.  Intellectual  characters. 

Susceptibility  to  Discrimination. 
Retainability,  or  Persistence. 

Quality  in  Feeling  means  that  all  feelings,  properly  so  called,, 
are  pleasures,  pains,  or  neutral  in  this  respect.  This  is  the 
character  that  each  one's  consciousness  reveals  with  certainty. 


GEADATIONS    OF    INTENSITY   OF   FEELING.  75 

Degree  is  attended  with  much  more  difficulty.  It  has  to  be 
circumvented  in  a  variety  of  ways. 

The  distinction  between  the  acute  and  the  massive  forms  of 
feehng,  or  between  Intensity  and  Quantity,  is  borrowed  from 
Heat  and  Electricity,  and  is  strictly  applicable  to  the  case, — as 
will  be  seen  in  tlie  detail  of  the  Senses,  more  especially  Touch, 
Hearincr^  and  Sight.  We  are  quite  readily  able  to  distinguish  the 
two  modes. 

The  direct  conscious  comparison  is  made  when  two  feelings 
are  in  close  proximity,  or  immediately  succeed  one  another.  This 
is  the  ultimate  criterion,  and  its  delicacy  varies  with  the  indi- 
vidual constitution.  In  cognising  subjective  states,  as  well  as  in 
estimating  the  properties  of  the  object  world,  there  is  probably  a 
difference  of  sensibility  between  one  person  and  another,  although 
the  amount  of  difference  has  not  been  reduced  to  measurement. 

The  comparison  may  be  made  by  memory  ;  as  when  a  present 
feeling  is  measured  by  a  past.     This  is  still  less  accurate. 

A  pleasure  can  be  compared  with  the  amount  of  pain  that  it 
submerges  or  neutralises  ;  and  a  pain  in  like  manner.  This  is  a 
considerable  advance  on  the  conscious  comparison  of  the  same 
quality. 

Still  more  important  is  the  reference  to  the  outward  or  physi- 
cal signs  of  feeling,  which  both  estimate  the  quality  and  measure 
the  degree  with  all  the  nicety  of  a  visible  appearance.  This  is 
an  additional  means  of  judging  to  the  individual  self,  while 
making  the  state  known  and  measurable  to  others.  The  signs 
are  of  two  classes, — those  that  are  strictly  emotional  and  those 
that  operate  through  the  will. 

We  shall  resume  the  consideration  of  Degree,  after  pointing 
out  the  characters  of  Feeling  as  bearing  on  the  Will  and  on  the 
Intellect  respectively. 

The  Will  is  moved  by  Pleasure  and  Pain  ;  the  two  acting  in 
opposite  ways.  Hence  the  manifested  conduct  is  a  criterion  of 
the  quality  of  the  feelings,  and  also  of  their  intensity,  under  all 
the  advantages  of  objective  measurement. 

In  the  meantime,  we  need  to  assign  the  signification  of 
'  Special  Characteristics  '. 

Two  feelings  may  be,  to  the  best  of  our  judgment,  identical 
in  Quality  and  Degree,  and  yet  not  identical  in  every  respect ; 


76  THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS, 

there  may  be  a  conscious  difference  that  prevents  their  being 
confounded,  or  mistaken  one  for  another.  A  given  taste  may  be 
as  pleasant  or  as  painful  as  a  given  odour,  and  yet  we  recognise 
a  distinction  between  the  two  ;  being  the  distinction  that  holds 
all  through  the  sensations  of  the  two  senses.  So  it  would  be 
with  our  Emotions.  The  leading  kinds  of  Emotion,  as  Love  and 
Hatred,  would  never  be  confounded,  even  though,  in  particular 
cases,  there  might  be  a  substantial  agreement  in  the  Quality,  as 
pleasure  or  pain,  and  an  identity  in  the  Degree  or  amount.  An 
idiosyncrasy  attaches  to  each  in  our  consciousness,  which  makes 
their  intellectual  status,  and  gives  them  a  place  in  the  classifica- 
tion of  the  Feelings. 

Intellectual  States. 

The  intellectual  characters  of  our  feelings  are  primarily  Dis- 
crimination and  Remembrance,  not  without  the  accompaniment 
of  Feeling  on  the  emotional  side  as  typified  by  pleasure  and 
pain.  Sense  and  Memory  Images  are  the  consummate  type  of 
our  intellectual  products.  The  gradations  of  merit  or  excellence 
attaching  to  these  are  such  as  the  following :  — 

(1)  Delicacy  of  discrimination  of  Degree.  The  most  marked 
of  our  emotional  experiences  consciously  discriminated,  but  not 
with  minuteness, — those  that  yield  the  finest  sense  of  difference, — 
are  of  least  value  as  pleasure ;  and  our  intellectual  states  proper 
flourish  upon  fineness  of  discrimination.  The  most  intellectual 
senses.  Sight  and  Hearing,  are  the  most  delicate. 

(2)  Memory,  Eetentiveness,  or  persistence  as  images  or  ideas. 
The  treatment  of  the  Intellect  will  be  an  extensive  commentary 
on  this. 

(3)  Plurality,  or  Complication.  An  unintellectual  sensation 
has  few  distinctive  points  ;  a  highly  intellectual  sense,  as  sight, 
takes  in,  at  the  same  instant,  a  large  plurality  of  distinguishable 
impressions — the  more  the  better.  Hearing,  in  this  respect,  may 
not  be  on  a  par  with  sight,  yet  one  can  realise  at  the  same 
moment  many  distinct  tones  from  a  variety  of  instruments. 

(4)  Vivacity,  Intensity,  or  Presentative  Activity  (Herbart). 
Other  properties  being  the  same,  two  impressions  of  sense  may  differ 
in  the  energy  or  intensity  of  the  effect  on  the  consciousness.  An 
inscription  may  be  intelligible,  but  feeble  :  it  may  be  either  in 


INTELLECTUAL    CHARACTERS    OF    FEELING.  77 

printer's  type  or  in  letters  of  fire,  like  '  God  save  the  Queen  '  on 
a  birthday  celebration.  The  starry  heaven  has  many  gradations 
of  vivacity,  the  number  of  stars  visible  to  the  eye  being  nearly 
the  same.     So  with  Hearing  and  the  Ideas  of  Sounds. 

Our  consciousness  reveals  and  measures  this  peculiarity.  It 
shows  itself  in  a  very  notable  way  when  several  different  sensa- 
tions or  images  come  together  :  the  one  that  takes  the  lead  and 
excludes  the  others  is  the  strongest. 

The  Intellectual  properties  of  Discrimination  (with  Agree- 
ment) and  Eetentiveness  are  generally  influenced  by  the  state  of 
the  Feelings  at  the  time  ;  chiefly  in  the  matter  of  Degree,  irre- 
spective of  Quality. 

To  recur  now  to  the  problem  of  fixing  a  scale  of  Degree  for 
the  Feelings  strictly  so  called. 

We  have  laid  down  as  means  to  this  end :  (1)  Conscious  direct 
comparison  ;  (2)  Conscious  indirect  comparison,  by  the  neutralis- 
ing of  opposites  ;  (3)  the  physical  or  objective  indications  both 
emotional  and  volitional, — which  is  greatly  extended  by  the  con- 
ventional signs  of  feeling,  language  being  the  principal ;  (4)  the 
impressing  of  the  Intellect. 

The  inter-relationship  or  mutual  action  of  Feeling  and  Thought 
provides  other  criteria  for  judging  each  by  the  other.  Indeed,  the 
intellectual  signs  of  feeling  are  numerous  and  far-reaching. 

(5)  Intellectual  associates  with  gradations  of  feeling.  There 
are  in  our  life-experience  numerous  situations  and  surroundings 
that  become  stamped  in  the  memory  in  connexion  with  definite 
grades  of  pleasure  and  pain,  elation  and  depression,  and  thereby 
serve  to  measure  the  intensity  on  any  occasion  by  recalling  the 
circumstances  suited  to  that  occasion.  So,  the  direction  given  to 
the  thoughts  precisely  estimates  the  state  of  the  feelings.  In  high 
elation,  the  outlook,  anticipations,  and  plans  have  a  very  special 
direction,  not  caused  by  a  mere  ordinary  pitch  of  pleasure  ;  while 
the  depths  of  depression  are  made  known  by  the  gloomy  forebod- 
ings and  the  desperate  resolves  that  rise  up  unbidden.  Hamlet's 
depression  was  set  forth  by — 

Man  delights  not  me  ;   no,  nor  woman  neither. 

So,  according  to  Young  : — 

Health  keeps  an  Atheist  in  the  dark. 


78  THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS. 

Our  imaginatioas  of  Heaven  and  Hell  are  used  for  the  same 
purpose  as  real  situations.  '  The  seventh  Heaven  '  and  '  the 
lowest  Hell '  are  the  embodiment  of  the  greatest  conceivable 
extremes  of  happiness  and  misery.  There  is  a  degree  of  despair 
that  drives  to  suicide,  another  that  simply  makes  the  idea  of  death 
welcome,  a  third  that  merely  brings  us  to  pronounce  life  not 
worth  living. 

9.  The  feelings  connected  wdth  the  moving  organs  may 
be  classified  thus  : — 

(1)  Feelings  dependent  on  the  organic  condition  of 
the  muscles;  as  those  arising  from  fatigue,  rest,  nutriment, 
hurts,  diseases.  A  certain  number  of  these  the  muscles 
have  in  common  with  the  other  tissues  of  the  body  ;  others 
will  be  considered  under  the  heading  of  Organic  Sensibilitj'. 
The  states  that  characterise  muscle  are  to  be  traced  in  con- 
nexion with  its  normal  exercise  as  the  instrument  of  our 
movements  or  activity.  There  is  a  sub-division  here,  accord- 
ing as  w^e  look  at  the  fact  of  energy  passing  outwards,  or 
at  the  resulting  stimulus  imparted  to  the  sensory  or  ingoing 
fibres  of  the  muscles.  Our  Subjective  Consciousness  indicates 
a  difference  that  we  may  possibly  interpret  as  corresponding 
to  the  two  physical  situations. 

(2)  Feelings  connected  with  muscular  action,  including  all 
the  pleasures  and  pains  of  bodily  exercise,  together  with  the 
measure  of  our  muscular  expenditure  when  indifferent  as 
regards  pleasure  and  pain.  The  two  modes  are  not  mutually 
exclusive ;  it  is  only  a  question  which  of  the  tw^o  shall  predo- 
minate in  any  one  case.  The  same  doubleness  of  aspect 
holds  likewise  in  the  Senses  at  large. 

I.  Feelings  of  Muscular  Exercise. 

These  are  the  feelings  proper  to  the  muscles.  The  mode 
of  consciousness  arising  under  muscular  exertion  cannot  be 
produced  or  imitated  in  connexion  wath  any  other  part  of 
the  system. 

10.  Feeling  of  Muscular  Exercise  generally. — According 


PHYSICAL    SIDE    OF    MUSCULAE    SENSIBILITY.  79 

to  the  manner  of  the  exertion,  the  feehngs  differ  considerably  : 
a  dead  strain  is  different  from  movement,  and  distinct 
modes  of  consciousness  attend  quick  and  slow  movements 
respectively.  The  most  general  and  characteristic  form  of 
muscular  exercise  is  exemplified  in  a  dead  strain,  or  else  in 
great  exertion  with  a  moderate  pace  of  movement. 

11.  To  begin  with  the  Physical  side. 

The  physical  state  of  a  muscle  under  contraction  may 
be  inferred  from  the  details  already  given.  The  particles 
making  up  the  muscular  threads  are  approximated  by  an 
energetic  attraction  developed  n\  the  muscle,  under  the 
stimulus  supplied  by  the  nerves.  An  intense  physical  force 
is  produced  by  a  peculiar  expenditure  of  the  substance  of 
the  muscular  mass  ;  and,  in  the  production  of  this  force,  the 
tissue  is  affected,  as  it  were,  with  a  strong  internal  agitation. 
As  the  nerves  supplied  to  the  muscles  are  principally  motor 
nerves,  by  which  the  muscular  movements  are  stimulated 
from  the  brain  and  nerve  centres,  our  safest  assumption  is, 
that  the  sensibility  accompanying  muscular  movement 
coincides  with  the  outgoing  stream  of  nervous  energy,  and 
does  not,  as  in  the  case  of  pure  sensation,  result  from  any 
influence  passing  inwards,  by  incarrying  or  sensitive  nerves. 
It  is  known  that  sensitive  filaments  are  distributed  to  the 
muscular  tissue,  along  with  the  motor  filaments  ;  and  it  is 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  by  means  of  them  the  organic 
states  of  the  muscle  affect  the  mind.  It  does  not  follow 
that  the  characteristic  feeling  of  exerted  force  should  arise 
by  an  inward  transmission  through  the  sensitive  filaments  ; 
on  the  contrary,  we  are  bound  to  presume  that  this  is  the 
concomitant  of  the  outgoing  current,  by  which  the  muscles 
are  stimulated  to  act.  No  other  hypothesis  so  well  represents 
the  total  opposition  of  nature  between  states  of  energy  exerted 
and  states  of  passive  stimulation. 

'  The  reference  to  the  Muscles  opens  up  the  much  discussed 
question  of  the  physical  side  of  our  subjective  sensibility  to 
pressure,  strain,  and  active  exertion  in  every  form.  This  case 
is  illustrative,  in  a  way  of  its  own,  of  the  value  to  be  attached  to 


80  THE    MUSCULAE   FEELINGS. 

the  study  of  physical  concomitance  in  mind.  It  so  happens  that, 
in  this  region,  the  subjective  analysis  is  self-sufficing,  that  is,  in- 
dependent of  hints  or  confirmation  from  the  physical  side.  It 
will  probably  be  admitted  by  all  the  disputants  on  such  a  well- 
threshed  question,  that  subjectively  we  can  establish  as  distinguish- 
able modes  of  consciousness  the  following  series  of  states  of  feel- 
ing : — Sense  of  energy  expended,  pleasure  of  muscular  exercise, 
pain  of  fatigue,  pleasure  of  repose,  pains  of  morbid  states,  as 
cramp,  not  to  speak  of  minuter  variations  of  those  leading  modes 
of  sensibility.  Now,  working  upon  the  usual  analogies  of  the 
senses,  where  we  can  generally  assign  to  each  important  variety 
of  sensation  a  local  seat,  there  would  be  a  propriety  in  assigning 
some  distinct  mode  of  stimulating  muscle  to  each  of  the  several 
classes  now  enumerated.  One  hypothesis  connects  the  sense  of 
energy  with  the  outgoing  motor  current ;  while  the  pleasures  and 
pains  of  exercise  and  repose,  which  can  be  best  viewed  as  passive 
sensation,  would  accompany  the  ingoing  sensory  current  through 
the  sensory  fibres  of  muscle  :  to  these  might  be  added  any  known 
adjuncts  of  sensation  from  the  peripheral  parts  involved  in  mus- 
cular action.  There  would  be  a  certain  cougruity  with  the  sub- 
jective facts  in  this  mode  of  assigning  the  concomitance  ;  yet  its 
verification  would  not  add  to  the  evidence  of  our  subjective 
analysis,  and  its  overthrow  would  not  impair  the  validity  of  that 
analysis.  We  cannot  quote  this  instance  as  even  particularly 
illustrating  the  use  of  a  physical  hypothesis  in  supplying  sub- 
jective expression.  We  derive  all  the  benefit  of  the  physiological 
reference  by  using  such  objective  terms  as  muscle,  motion,  action, 
rest,  without  committing  ourselves  to  the  concomitance  of  our 
feeling  of  energy  with  the  outgoing  current'  Mind,  vol.  xvi., 
p.  11). 

But  the  physical  accompaniments  of  muscular  exertion 
pass  beyond  the  muscles  themselves.  We  know  that  active 
exercise  indirectly  affects  all  the  organs  of  the  body.  The 
circulation  of  the  blood  is  quickened  generally,  and  is  made 
to  flow  by  preference  to  the  muscular  tissue,  the  brain  being 
in  this  way  often  relieved  from  a  morbid  excess  of  blood. 
The  lungs  are  stimulated  to  increased  action.  The  elimi- 
nation of  waste  matter  from  the  skin  is  promoted.     There  is 


EXPRESSION    OR    EMBODIMENT    OF    MUSCULAR    FEELING.    81 

a  great  increase  of  animal  heat.  Provided  the  waste  of 
nutritive  material  caused  by  these  various  modes  of  increased 
action  is  duly  supplied,  the  vital  force  of  the  system  as  a 
whole  is  raised  by  muscular  exercise. 

So  much  for  the  corporeal  seat  of  Origin  of  the  sensi- 
bility in  question.  There  is  still  another  physical  aspect, — 
namely,  the  Expression  or  Embodiment  of  the  Feeling, 
which  is  not  only  the  means  of  making  known  the  state  to 
others,  but  also  an  essential  concomitant  of  its  own  exist- 
ence. 

By  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  the  feeling  arising  from 
great  bodily  exertion  is  liable  to  be  wanting  in  Expression, 
properly  so  called.  The  organs  are  so  completely  employed 
in  the  exercise  itself  that  they  are  not  disposable  as  instru- 
ments of  the  expression  of  the  feeling.  The  features  of  the 
face  and  the  voice,  which  are  by  pre-eminence  the  organs 
of  expression,  are  exerted  chiefly  in  sympathy  with  the 
muscles  engaged  in  the  exercise  (see  Instinct,  Primitive 
Combined  Movements).  Hence,  as  regards  outward  display, 
there  is  nothing  to  be  remarked  in  connexion  with  muscular 
effort  generally.  It  is  only  when  the  feeling  happens  to  be 
pleasurable  or  the  reverse,  that  any  expression  is  shown  ; 
and  such  expression  is  merely  the  attendant  of  the  pleasure 
or  the  pain  as  such. 

12.  AYe  pass  now  to  the  Mental  side.  In  reviewing  the 
characteristics  of  the  mental  accompaniment  of  nmscular 
action,  viewed  as  Feeling,  we  will  advert  first  to  its  Quality. 

Observation  shows  that  this  is  pleasurable,  indifferent,  or 
painful,  according  to  the  condition  of  the  system.  The  first 
outburst  of  muscular  vigour  in  a  healthy  frame,  after  rest 
and  nourishment,  is  highly  pleasurable.  The  intensity  of 
the  pleasure  gradually  subsides  into  indifference  ;  and,  if  the 
exercise  is  prolonged  beyond  a  certain  time,  pain  ensues. 
In  ordinary  manual  labour,  there  may  be,  at  commencing  in 
the  morning  and  after  meals,  a  certain  amount  of  pleasure 
caused  by  the  exercise,  but  it  is  probable  that,  during  the 
greater  part  of  a  workman's  day,  the  feeling  of  exertion  is  in 

6 


82  THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS. 

most  cases  indifferent.  If  we  confine  ourselves  to  the  dis- 
charge of  surplus  energy  in  muscular  exertion,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  this  is  a  certain  source  of  pleasure  in  the 
average  of  human  beings,  and  doubtless  also  in  the  animal 
tribes.  The  fact  is  shown  in  the  love  of  exercise  for  its  own 
sake,  or  apart  from  the  ends  of  productive  industry  and  the 
preservation  of  health.  In  the  case  of  active  sports  and 
amusements,  there  are  additional  sources  of  pleasurable  ex- 
citement ;  but  the  delight  in  the  mere  bodily  exertion  would 
still  be  reckoned  one  ingredient  in  the  mixture,  in  fact  must 
be  considered  as  the  essential  groundwork  of  the  whole. 

A  part  of  the  pleasure  of  exercise  may  perhaps  be  attri- 
buted to  the  increase  of  vital  power  generally  ;  and  the 
question  arises,  may  not  the  whole  be  due  to  the  augmented 
force  of  the  circulation,  respirations,  etc.  ?  It  is  certain  that 
the  rising  to  a  higher  condition  as  regards  these  important 
functions,  is  a  source  of  pleasurable  excitement.  We  may 
reasonably  suppose,  however,  that  the  muscular  system, 
which  is  the  seat  of  so  much  unquestioned  sensibility,  should 
be  capable  of  affording  pleasure  under  favourable  condi- 
tions ;  and  I  think  our  consciousness  attests  the  same  fact. 
The  agreeable  feeling  in  the  exercise  of  the  muscular  organs, 
when  the  body  is  strong  and  fresh,  can  be  localised,  or  re- 
ferred to  the  muscles  actually  engaged.  And  it  will  be  seen, 
as  we  proceed,  that  there  are  various  facts  connected  with 
movement  that  are  inexplicable,  unless  we  suppose  that 
the  muscular  tissue  is  of  itself  a  seat  of  pleasurable,  as  it 
certainly  is  of  painful,  sensibility. 

In  apparent  rest,  we  are  relaxing  a  number  of  muscles,  while 
at  the  same  time  stretching  others.  We  thus  give  birth  to  a  mixed 
state  of  repose  and  exercise.  The  resulting  pleasure  may  hence 
consist  of  rest  from  those  muscles  that  have  actually  been  fully 
drawn  upon,  and  exertion  of  others  that,  being  in  abeyance,  still 
possess  their  pristine  freshness. 

As  to  the  Degree  of  this  pleasure,  we  must,  of  course,  pro- 
nounce it  variable  according  to  circumstances.     But  taking  a 


MEASURE    OF   DEGREE.  83 

common  case,  as  that  of  an  average  healthy  human  being, 
going  through  each  day  the  amount  of  bodily  exercise  that 
the  system  can  afford,  we  should  have  to  admit  that  this  is 
an  appreciable  constituent  of  our  enjoyment.  Doubtless,  by 
contriving  such  a  combination  of  exercises  as  to  bring  all  the 
powerful  muscles  into  full  play,  the  pleasure  could  be  in- 
creased considerably  above  the  ordinary  experience  in  this 
respect.  The  pleasure  is  not  what  would  be  called  acute,  or 
of  great  intensity  ;  its  degree  arises  from  the  stimulation  of  a 
large  mass  of  tissue. 

A  measure  of  the  degree  of  our  pleasures  is  found,  not 
merely  in  comparing  one  with  another  in  consciousness,  but 
also  in  observing  the  pains  that  they  are  respectively  able  to 
subdue.  In  this  particular  case,  however,  there  is  a  tendency 
to  subdue  pain,  not  through  the  evolution  of  pleasure  merely, 
but  through  some  of  the  direct  physical  consequences  of 
muscular  movement,  as  well  as  by  the  objective  attitude  that 
accompanies  muscular  expenditure.  The  derivation  of  blood 
from  the  brain  reduces  the  cerebral  excitement,  and  with 
that  the  mental  excitement,  and  so  may  operate  in  quench- 
ing painful  irritation. 

In  Sport,  the  muscular  pleasure  is  almost  overpowered  by 
the  more  subtle  excitements  of  sense  and  emotion.  At  the  same 
time,  that  it  is  an  important  ingredient  may  be  seen  from  the 
fact  that  the  delight  in  active  sports  and  exercises  is  found  in 
connexion  with  a  certain  endowment  of  muscular  vigour. 
Although  this  may  be  partly  owing  to  the  endurance  necessary 
for  the  pleasure  of  sport,  it  probably  also  involves  the  pleasure 
of  exercise  itself. 

On  the  other  hand,  muscular  pleasure  is  strictly  confined  to 
exuberant  muscular  energy,  and  fades  with  that.  It  has  no 
tendency  to  supply  an  acute  nervous  stimulus  of  the  pleasurable 
kind,  such  as  may  continue  by  a  nervous  tremor  solely.  It  is, 
perhaps,  the  best  example  of  the  concurrence  of  pleasure  with  a 
nourished  or  efficient  condition  of  the  organ  concerned. 

The  third  point  in  the  description  respects  any  Speciality 
in  the  case,  serving  still  further  to  describe  or  characterise 


84  THE    MUSCULAR   FEELINGS, 

the  feeling  in  question.  Now,  as  regards  muscular  exertion, 
there  is  a  notable  speciality,  a  radical  difference  in  kind  ; 
signified  by  such  phrases  as  'the  sense  of  power,'  '  the  feeling 
of  energy  put  forth,'  '  the  experience  of  force  or  resistance  '. 
This  is  an  ultimate  phase  of  the  human  consciousness,  and 
the  most  general  and  fundamental  of  all  our  conscious  states. 
By  this  experience,  we  body  forth  to  ourselves  a  notion  of 
resistance,  force  or  power,  together  with  the  great  fact  de- 
nominated an  external  world.  In  the  sense  of  energy  exerted, 
we  are  said  to  go  out  of  self,  or  to  constitute  a  something  in 
vital  contrast  to  all  the  rest  of  our  mental  experiences, — 
a  not-me,  as  opposed  to  the  me  of  passive  sensibility  and 
thought. 

With  regard  to  the  Volitional  peculiarities  of  the  pleasure 
of  muscular  exercise,  there  is  not  much  to  be  remarked.  As 
apleasm'e,  it  will  work  for  its  own  perpetuation,  increase,  or 
renewal.  According  to  the  doctrine  of  spontaneous  activity, 
the  sense  of  pleasure  would  not  be  necessary  for  our  passing 
into  an  active  state  in  the  first  instance ;  but  would  simply 
operate  to  maintain  the  activity,  and,  by  help  of  intelligent 
forethought,  to  keep  the  system  in  a  high  condition  of  fitness 
for  the  periodical  effusion  of  energy. 

The  workings  of  muscular  feeling,  as  the  pleasure  of  exercise 
on  the  one  hand  and  the  pains  of  fatigue  on  the  other,  illustrate 
the  law  of  the  Will  in  its  most  simple  and  primordial  form. 
While  conscious  of  the  flush  of  energy,  we  go  on  expending  our 
surplus  force  and  keep  the  organs  iu  action  so  long  as  that 
consciousness  continues.  When  the  state  of  pleasure  dies  away, 
so  does  the  activity  generated  on  its  account ;  although  other 
motives  coming  into  play  may  continue  it.  When  the  action  is 
maintained  to  the  point  of  commencing  fatigue,  it  ceases  of  its 
own  accord,  unless  a  still  more  powerful  motive  is  present.  See 
Instiyict  (Germ  of  Volition). 

The  distinctively  Intellectual  properties  of  the  muscular 
feehngs  will  have  to  be  referred  to  as  the  sources  of  highly 
important  perceptions.      But,  before  considering  these,  we 


PERSISTENCE    IN    IDEA.  85 

should  notice  an  intellectual  aspect  or  property  belonging  to 
these  feelings,  in  their  strict  character  of  feelings,  or  as 
pleasures  and  pains, — namely,  the  fact  of  their  greater  or  less 
persistence  in  the  memory,  so  as  to  constitute  ideal  pleasures 
or  pains,  and,  in  that  capacity,  to  stimulate  the  will  in  pursuit 
or  in  avoidance.  A  pleasure  may  be  very  intense  in  the  actual, 
but  feeble  in  the  ideal,  or  in  the  memory.  Such  a  pleasure 
would  not  in  absence  prompt  the  will  to  energetic  efforts  for 
realising  it.  Now,  the  pleasures  of  muscular  exercise  do  not 
take  a  high  place  among  persisting,  remembered,  or  ideal 
pleasures.  They  are,  perhaps,  not  at  the  bottom  of  the  scale 
in  this  respect ;  but  they  are  not  much  higher  than  the  least 
intellectual  of  the  sensations, — as,  for  example,  those  of 
Digestion.  x-is  regards  active  amusements,  sports,  and 
occupations,  which  readily  become  fixed  objects  of  passionate 
pursuit,  the  intellectual  persistence  or  memory  involved 
attaches  more  to  the  accompanying  states  of  sense  and 
emotion  that  nnpart  to  them  their  character. 

But  the  truly  important  intellectual  aspect  of  muscular 
feeling  is  something  quite  different  from  any  ideal  pleasures 
and  pains  of  exercise.  It  regards  the  discriminating  and 
identifying  of  degrees  and  modes  of  the  characteristic  con- 
sciousness of  expended  energy  ;  an  experience  corresponding 
with  the  great  facts  of  the  object  world, — resistance,  force, 
power,  velocity,  space,  time,  etc.  In  these  perceptions,  there 
may  be  a  neutrality  as  regards  pleasure  or  pain. 

We  have  already  assumed  that,  between  the  pleasure  of 
exercise  and  the  pain  of  fatigue,  there  is  an  intermediate 
state  where  there  is  still  the  characteristic  feeling  of  energy 
expended.  In  this  state,  we  usually  cease  to  attend  to  the 
feeling,  as  feeling  proper :  we  are  occupied  with  the 
purely  intellectual  functions  of  discrimination  and  agree- 
ment ;  we  think  of  the  present  expenditure  as  greater  or 
less  than  some  other  expenditure,  or  as  agreeing  with  some 
previously  known  instances.  This  is  to  be  intellectually 
engrossed ;  and,  under  such  an  engrossment  in  the  case  of 
muscular  exercise,  we  assume  the  object  attitude  ;  w^e  are  not 


86  THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS. 

self-conscious,  but   are  engaged  in  knowing  certain  purely 
object  facts,  called  force,  extension,  etc. 

Even  if  muscular  exertion  were  attended  with  the  plea- 
sures of  exercise  or  the  pains  of  fatigue,  yet  if,  from  any 
circumstance,  we  were  led  to  consider  intently  the  degree 
or  amount  of  the  expenditure,  as  in  aiming  a  stroke  at  golf, 
we  should  at  that  moment  be  entirely  unconscious  of  the 
pleasure  or  the  pain  of  the  situation  ;  the  intellectual  attitude 
(in  this  case  the  object  attitude)  is  incompatible  for  the  in- 
stant with  the  subject  experience  proper,  of  which  pleasure 
and  pain  are  characteristic  modes.  Even  in  the  highest  zest 
of  muscular  enjoyment,  the  feeling  of  pleasure  is  inter- 
mittent :  it  is  eclipsed  in  the  act  of  putting  forth  energy 
and  of  considering  and  comparing  its  amount :  and  reap- 
pears at  the  end  of  the  stroke,  or  during  the  suspense  of  our 
attention  to  the  act  itself.  In  this  subtle  transition  or  con- 
trast is  laid  the  groundwork  of  the  fundamental  opposition 
of  subject  and  object — mind  and  matter. 

A  great  deal  hangs  upon  the  grand  distinction  between  Siib- 
ject  and  Object  states,  which  pervades  the  whole  range  of  our 
mental  workings.  The  case  now  supposed  affords  one  illustra- 
tion ;  many  others  will  arise  in  the  course  of  the  exposition,  and 
an  opportunity  will  be  found  for  resuming  the  whole  in  compre- 
hensive language. 

13.  Having  thus  endeavoured  to  present  a  delineation  of 
the  first  and  simplest  variety  of  muscular  consciousness  under 
exertion,  we  shall  now  cite  a  few  examples  of  this  form  of 
the  feeling. 

The  supporting  of  a  weight  on  the  back,  head,  or  chest, 
or  by  the  arms,  is  a  common  example  of  Dead  Strain  or  ten- 
sion. The  most  interesting  form  of  it  is  the  support  of  the 
body's  own  weight,  which  yields  a  perpetual  feeling  of  the 
muscular  kind  varying  with  the  attitudes.  The  feeling  is 
least  when  we  lie  at  full  length  in  bed,  and  greatest  in  the 
erect  posture.  Sometimes  the  weight  is  oppressive  to  us, 
and  gives  the  sensation  of  fatigue  ;  in  a  more  fresh  condi- 


SLOW    MOVEMENTS.  87 

tion  of  the  muscles,  it  makes  one  item  of  our  pleasurable 
consciousness.  The  fatigue  of  standing  erect  for  a  length  of 
time  is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  commonest  cases  of  muscular 
exhaustion.  The  pleasure  of  standing  up  after  a  lengthened 
repose  gives  an  opposite  feeling. 

This  case  of  great  muscular  tension,  without  movement, 
presents  itself  under  a  variety  of  forms, — in  the  routine  of 
mechanical  operations,  and  in  many  other  ways.  In  holding 
on  as  a  drag,  in  offering  or  encountering  resistance  of  any 
sort,  in  compressing,  squeezing,  clenching,  wrestling,  the 
situation  is  exemplified. 

A  certain  amount  of  movement  may  be  permitted  without 
essentially  departing  from  the  case  of  dead  tension, — as  in 
dragging  a  vehicle,  and  in  efforts  of  slow  traction  generally. 

14.  Muscular  tension  ending  in  Movement  is  a  new 
situation  physically. 

In  this  case,  there  must  be  a  gradually  increasing  contraction, 
and  not  a  mere  expenditure  of  power  at  one  fixed  position. 
Each  muscle  has  to  pass  through  a  course  of  contraction  ;  begin- 
ning, it  may  be,  at  the  extreme  state  of  relaxation,  and  passing 
on,  sometimes  slowly,  and  at  other  times  rapidly,  to  the  most 
shortened  and  contracted  condition.  The  sensibility  developed 
during  this  process  is  greater  in  degree  than,  and  even  somewhat 
different  in  kind  from,  that  now  discussed.  As  a  general  rule, 
the  feeling  is  more  intense  under  movement  than  under  exertion 
without  movement.  The  successive  contraction  of  the  muscle 
would  seem  capable  of  originating  a  more  vivid  stimulus  than  the 
fixed  contraction.  We  even  find  that  in  different  degrees  of 
rapidity  the  character  of  the  feeling  changes,  which  requires  us 
to  make  a  division  of  movements  into  several  kinds. 

15.  Let  us  first  advert  to  what  we  may  term,  by  compari- 
son, sloiv  movements.  By  these  I  understand  such  as  a 
loitering,  sauntering  walk,  an  indolent  style  of  doing  things, 
a  solemn  gesture,  a  drawling  speech,  whatever  is  set  down  as 
leisurely,  deliberate,  dawdling.  The  emotion  arising  from  this 
kind  of  movement  is  far  greater  than  an  equal  effort  of  dead 
tension  would  produce.     Indeed,  we  may  say  that  this  is  an 


88  THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS. 

extremely  voluminous  and  copious  state  of  feeling  ;  being 
both  abundant  and  strong,  although  deficient  in  the  element 
that  we  recognise  as  the  sense  of  energy,  or  of  expended  force, 
— in  fact,  approaching  more  to  the  class  of  passive  feelings. 
We  may  derive  the  greatest  amount  of  pleasurable  sensibility 
at  the  least  cost  of  exertion,  through  the  means  of  well-con- 
certed slow  movements.  In  their  case,  it  seems  probable 
that,  together  with  the  sense  of  expended  energy,  there  is 
also  present  the  proper  sensibility  of  the  muscular  tissue, 
awakened  through  the  medium  of  the  sensitive  nerves. 
The  resemblance  of  the  state  to  the  feeling  of  muscular  re- 
pose (which  probably  makes  an  element  in  the  voluminous 
sensation  of  approacliing  sleep)  favours  this  view.  The  sense 
of  expended  energy  is  small, — -in  fact,  almost  wanting".  But 
we  must  not  overlook  another  circumstance,  accounting  for 
a  copious  sensibility  under  a  small  expenditure  of  force. 
When  the  energies  of  the  system  are  strongly  directed  into 
the  current  of  muscular  activity,  they  are  less  available  for  the 
support  of  sensibility  or  feeling  :  the  putting  forth  of  energy 
in  bodily  movements  is  a  diversion  of  the  forces  from  the 
seats  of  passive  sensibility,  and  is  a  well-known  remedy  for 
too  great  mental  excitement.  Hence,  inversely,  the  small- 
ness  of  the  active  expenditure  permits  a  larger  manifestation 
of  sensibility  or  feeling. 

The  relationship  of  the  feeling  in  question  to  muscular 
repose  and  approaching  sleep,  is  seen  in  the  tendency  of  slow 
movements  to  induce  these  states.  They  are  pre-eminently 
soothing  in  their  nature,  and  when  the  system  has  contracted 
a  morbid  restlessness,  they  can  gradually  restore  it  to  the 
healthy  condition. 

Movement  generally — that  is,  in  all  its  various  manifestations 
— has  superinduced  upon  it  aesthetic  developments  or  aggregates. 
Hence,  we  cannot  attribute  to  pure  muscularity  the  many  power- 
ful influences  that  accompany  the  various  kinds.  After  a  bustling 
day,  tranquillity  is  attained  by  the  mere  sympathy  of  measured 
movements,  as  in  music  and  the  conversation  of  persons  of  sedate 
elocution.      There   is  a  close  intimacy  between   the   feelings  of 


QUICK    MOVEMENTS.  89 

slow  movement  and  certain  powerful  emotions,  as  awe,  solemnity, 
veneration,  and  others  of  tlie  class  of  mingled  tenderness  and 
fear,  entering  into  the  religious  sentiment.  Accordingly,  the 
funeral  pace,  the  slow  enunciation  of  devotional  exercises,  the 
solemn  tones  of  organ  music,  are  chosen  as  appropriate  to  the 
feelings  that  they  accompany.  All  this  still  further  supports  the 
position,  that  the  feeling  under  consideration  is  not  one  of  active 
energy,  but  the  opposite.  For,  all  those  sentiments  are  the  re- 
sponse of  man's  powerlessness  and  dependence,  and  are  developed 
according  as  the  sense  of  his  own  energy  is  low. 

16.  There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  movements 
gradually  increasing  or  gradualUj  diminishing  are  more  pro- 
ductive of  pleasm-able  emotion,  than  such  as  are  of  a  uniform 
character.  Indeed,  a  uniform  movement  is  altogether  of 
artificial  acquirement.  The  natural  swing  of  the  limbs  tends 
to  get  quicker  and  quicker  up  to  the  full  stretch,  and  to  die 
away  again  gradually.  There  would  appear  to  be  a  special 
sensibility  connected  w^ith  the  acceleration  or  steady  diminu- 
tion of  movement.  The  gradual  dying  away  of  a  motion  is 
pleasurable  and  graceful  in  every  sort  of  activity — in  gesture, 
in  the  dance,  in  speech,  in  vision.  The  '  dying  fall '  in  sound 
is  an  illustration  of  the  same  fact.  It  also  goes  to  make  the 
beauty  of  curved  lines. 

Something  of  this  augmented  sensibility  may  be  a  consequence 
of  the  great  law  of  Relativity,  or  the  necessity  of  change  to  our 
being  mentally  affected.  A  gradual  acceleration  or  diminution 
of  any  agent  that  wakens  sensibility  is  the  surest  antidote  of 
monotony, — in  other  words,  the  condition  most  favourable  to  con- 
sciousness. But,  as  just  remarked,  the  full  rendering  of  these 
phenomena  demands  a  variety  of  aesthetic  considerations,  of 
which  the  principal  seems  to  be  the  connexion  of  curved  lines 
with  the  human  form,  and  the  various  emotions  attaching  to 
personality. 

17.  We  pass  next  to  the  consideration  of  qtdcJi  move- 
ments. These  differ  considerably  in  feeling  both  from  dead 
exertion  and  from  slow  motion.  Although  there  may  seem 
to    be    a    common    muscular    sensibility   underlying,  there 


90  THE    MUSCULAE    FEELINGS. 

is  a  well-marked  specific  nature.  One  accompaniment 
of  the  quickness  is  the  increased  excitement  of  the  nerves  ; 
an  increase  totally  distinct  from  the  addition  of  energy- 
expended  to  heighten  an  effort  of  dead  resistance.  Mere 
rapidity  of  movement  has  a  specific  influence  in  exciting  the 
nerves  and  nerve  centres  to  a  greater  activity  of  their  own  ; 
in  short,  it  belongs  to  the  class  of  nervous  stimulants.  The 
stimulation  would  appear  to  be  all  the  greater  when  the 
organs  have  full  swing,  and,  consequently,  demand  little  ex- 
penditure of  energy.  For  inducing  an  unwonted  degree  of 
excitement  generally,  for  inflaming  the  animal  spirits,  and 
bringing  on  various  manifestations  and  exaggerated  efforts, 
quick  movement  is  an  available  instrumentality.  We  may 
compare  it,  in  this  respect,  with  acute  pains,  not  severe 
enough  to  crush  the  energies.  Eapid  motions  are  a  species 
of  mechanical  intoxication.  Any  one  organ,  however  small, 
made  to  move  quickly,  imparts  its  pace  to  all  the  other 
moving  organs.  In  a  rapid  walk,  still  more  in  a  run,  not  too 
violent,  the  mental  tone  is  excited,  the  gesticulations  and 
the  speech  are  quickened,  the  features  betray  an  unusual 
tension. 

Examples  of  this  class  of  motions  and  feelings  are  suffi- 
ciently abundant.  They  are  expressly  sought  to  give  hilarity 
and  excitement  to  human  life.  The  chase,  the  dance,  the 
vehemence  of  oratory  and  gesture,  the  stirring  spectacle,  are 
prized  for  their  stimulating  character,  as  well  as  for  their 
proper  sensations.  In  the  ecstatic  worship  of  antiquity, — in 
the  rites  of  Bacchus  and  Demeter, — a  peculiar  frenzy  over- 
took the  worshippers,  yielding  an  enjoyment  of  the  most 
intense  and  violent  character,  and,  in  its  expression,  mad  and 
furious.  This  state  is  often  brought  on  among  the  Orientals 
of  the  present  day;  and  in  a  similar  manner, — namely,  by 
rapid  dancing  and  music,  under  the  exhilaration  of  a 
multitude. 

Thus,  then.  Dead  Eesistance  is  a  source  of  pleasure  in  a 
healthy  system,  a  derivative  of  morbid  excitement  from  the 
brain,  and  the  origin  of  our  most  general  and  fundamental 


PASSIVE    MOVEMENTS.  91 

sensibility,  constituting  the  consciousness  of  the  object  or 
external  world.  Slow  Movements  are  allied  to  the  passive 
pleasures,  and  may  affect  us  more  through  the  sensitive  than 
through  the  motor  nerves  of  the  muscles.  Quick  Move- 
ments affect  us  less  as  movement  than  as  stimulating  the 
nerves  to  increased  action  ;  the  consequence  being  a  higher 
mental  tone  for  feeling,  for  volition,  and  for  thought. 

18.  We  may,  next,  advert  to  what  are  called  ^ass/ye  (but 
more  properly  compelled)  movements.  Eiding  in  a  vehicle  is 
the  commonest  instance.  One  of  the  pleasures  of  human 
life  is  to  be  driven  along  at  a  moderate  speed,  in  an  easy 
carriage.  The  analysis  of  this  situation  shows  a  certain 
amount  of  muscular  feeling  akin  to  slow  motion,  with  other 
ingredients  more  expressly  connected  with  the  sense  of 
sight.  The  muscular  element  can  be  isolated  in  one's  ex- 
perience of  driving  in  the  dark.  When  we  examine  it  so,  we 
can  trace  in  it  a  considerable  mass  of  muscular  sensibility 
at  a  low  expenditure  of  fatiguing  exertion.  Even  a  certain 
amount  of  jolting  is  not  disagreeable,  although  in  greater 
amount  it  rises  to  muscular  pain — the  pain  of  violence  of 
shock, — which  it  is  not  difficult  to  account  for.  Hence  the 
luxury  of  easy  motion,  as  attained  by  sprnigs  and  cushions 
in  our  costly  vehicles. 

The  shifting  of  scene  before  the  eye  is  a  sensuous  element 
accompanying  all  our  modes  of  locomotion  in  the  light  of  day.  It 
belongs  to  the  great  fundamental  law  of  change  of  impression,  as 
removing  the  oppressive  influence  of  sameness  or  monotony. 
The  most  interesting  point  for  remark  is  the  gi-eat  influence  of 
pace  in  determining  the  gratification  imparted  in  the  course  of 
the  operation.  A  slow  movement  is  not  effective  in  this  part  of 
the  case ;  it,  seemingly,  falls  short  of  the  expectations  that  we  are 
liable  to  form,  either  from  the  failure  to  attain  the  end  of  a  jour- 
ney, or  from  the  insufficient  regalement  of  the  mind  in  passing 
from  one  object  to  another.  As  a  matter  of  course,  the  intrinsic 
interest  of  the  scene  is  a  large  element  in  the  situation  :  it  de- 
termines us  to  retain  the  attention  at  individual  points,  instead 
of  hurrying  along. 


92'  THE    MUSCULAE    FEELINGS. 

That  there  is  a  purely  physical  result  connected  with  the 
passing  of  scenes  and  objects  before  the  eyes  is  shown  by  the 
illustrative  extreme  of  the  dizziness  produced  in  railway  travel- 
ling when  the  view  is  confined  to  near  objects,  as  when  shut  in 
between  sloping  banks.  Such  an  extreme  points  to  a  middle 
position  where  there  is  no  such  effect,  but  where,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  is  a  really  pleasurable  sensation,  even  if  found  to  be 
exhausting  when  long  persisted  in.  This  phenomenon  would 
seem  to  pass  entirely  out  of  the  muscular  department  and  to 
connect  itself  with  optical  sensibilities  of  a  distinct  class. 

In  horse  exercise,  there  is  a  large  amount  of  the  in- 
gredient of  activity.  The  rider  is  saved  a  part  of  the 
exhaustion  caused  in  w-alking,  and  has  yet  exercise  enough 
for  the  stimulus  of  the  bodily  functions,  and  for  muscular 
pleasures,  including  also  the  shifting  of  the  scene. 

The  rocking-chair,  introduced  by  the  Americans,  who 
seem  specially  attentive  to  the  luxuries  of  muscular  sen- 
sibility, is  another  mode  of  gaining  pleasure  from  movement. 
In  former  times,  furniture  was  adapted  to  the  pleasures  of 
repose  solely,  but  now  the  boy's  rocking-horse  has  its 
representative  among  the  appurtenances  of  grown  men. 

On  the  whole,  it  is  apparent  that  a  large  fraction  of 
physical  enjoyment  flows  out  of  the  moving  apparatus  and 
muscular  tissue  of  the  body.  By  ingeniously  varying  the 
modes  of  it,  this  enjoyment  is  increased  still  further.  The 
pleasure  comes  incidentally  to  manual  labour,  when  moderate 
ill  amount  and  alternated  with  due  sustenance  and  repose, 
and  is  a  gi'eat  element  of  field  sports  and  active  diversions  of 
every  kind  :  it  is  a  part  of  the  pleasures  of  locomotion,  and 
contributes  a  certain  ingredient  in  gymna.stic  exercises  and 
athletic  displays. 

II.  The  Intellectual  Aspect  of  Muscular  Feelings. 

19.  In  alluding  to  the  strictly  Intellectual  properties  of 
the  feeling  of  expended  muscular  energy,  we  had  to  advert 
to  that  mode,  neutral  as  regards  pleasure  and  pain,  wherein 


DISCRIMINATION    OF    MUSCULAR    ENERGY.  93 

we  are  occupied  with  tiie  properties  of  the  object  world,  as 
resistance,  force,  etc. 

This  grand  function  of  our  muscular  sensibility  is 
grounded,  in  the  first  instance,  upon  our  discrimination  of 
differences  in  degree.  Holding  a  weight  of  four  pounds  in 
the  hand,  we  have  a  distinct  change  of  consciousness  on 
adding  another  pomid.  As  Pleasure  or  Pain,  this  conscious- 
ness may  be  wholly  insignificant ;  as  a  medium  of  our 
knowledge,  it  is  all-important. 

Three  modes  of  muscular  change  accompanied  with 
change  of  consciousness  may  be  assigned.  The  first  is  the 
simple  amount  of  exertion,  or  of  expended  force.  This  may 
be  regarded  as  the  fundamental  experience.  The  second 
respects  the  continuance  of  the  exertion,  and  applies  alike  to 
dead  strain  and  to  movement.  The  third  is  a  mode  of 
movement  solely  ;  it  is  the  rapidity  of  the  muscles'  contrac- 
tion, which  corresponds  to  the  quickness  of  movement  in 
the  organ.  In  distinguishing  the  qualities  of  external  things, 
and  in  attaining  permanent  notions  of  the  world,  all  these 
discriminations  are  brought  into  play. 

'20.  First,  with  respect  to  degrees  of  Exertion,  or  of 
Expended  Force.  This  is  the  sense  of  Eesistance,  the  basis 
of  our  conception  of  Body,  and  our  measure  of  Force,  Inertia, 
Momentum,  or  the  Mechanical  property  of  matter.  We 
have  a  certain  feeling  when  we  exert  our  muscular  energy 
in  causing  movement,  or  in  encountering  resistance.  We 
have  a  certain  degree  of  consciousness  for  some  one  degree 
of  exertion ;  when  the  exertion  increases,  so  does  the 
consciousness.  If  a  porter  places  on  his  back  a  load  of  one 
hundredweight,  he  has  a  peculiar  and  distinct  muscular 
feeling  associated  with  it ;  if  thirty  pounds  be  added,  he 
has  a  sense  of  the  addition  in  the  increased  expenditure 
of  force ;  if  thirty  pounds  be  removed,  he  has  a  feehng 
of  diminished  expenditure.  In  short,  there  is  a  certain 
discrimination  of  degrees  of  muscular  energy,  which  serves 
us  as  a  means  of  discriminating  the  resistances  that  we 
encounter.     Hence,  we  are  able  to  say  that  one  body  resists 


94  THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS. 

more  than  another — possesses  in  greater  degree  the  quahty 
that,  according  to  circumstances,  we  call  force,  momentum, 
inertia,  weight,  or  power.  AVhen  we  encounter  two  forces 
m  succession,  as  in  a  wrestling  match  or  a  dead  push,  we 
distinguish  the  greater  from  the  less. 

21.  Among  the  various  occasions  where  the  sense  of 
graduated  resistance  comes  into  play,  mention  may  be  made, 
first,  of  the  momentum  or  force  of  moving  bodies.  Where 
we  have  to  check  or  resist  something  in  motion,  our  sensi- 
bility to  expended  exertion  leaves  with  us  an  impression  cor- 
responding to  the  momentum  of  the  moving  mass.  If  we 
were  immediately  after  to  repeat  the  act  with  another  moving 
object,  heavier  or  swifter  than  the  first,  we  should  have  a 
sense  of  increased  effort,  which  would  mark  our  estimate  of 
the  difference  of  the  two  forces.  Supposing  the  impressions 
thus  made  to  be  gifted  with  a  certain  kind  of  perman- 
ence, so  that  they  could  be  revived  at  an  after  time  to  be 
compared  with  some  new  case  of  checking  a  moving  body, 
we  should  then  be  able  to  say  which  of  the  three  was 
greatest  and  which  least,  and,  in  this  way,  we  should  have 
a  scale  of  sensibilities  corresponding  to  the  three  different 
degrees  of  embodied  force. 

Such  exercises  as  digging  the  ground,  rowing  a  boat,  or 
dragging  a  heavy  vehicle,  do  not  essentially  depart  from  the 
case  of  the  dead  strain ;  and,  in  all  these  instances,  there  is  an 
estimate  of  expended  force.  Every  carriage  horse  knows  the 
difference  of  draught  between  one  carriage  and  another,  be- 
tween rough  and  smooth  ground,  and  between  up  hill  and 
down  hill.  This  difference  the  animal  comes  to  associate 
with  the  carriage,  or  with  the  sight  of  the  road,  and,  in  con- 
sequence, manifests  preferences  whenever  there  is  an  oppor- 
tunity ;  choosing  a  level  instead  of  a  rising  road,  or  the  smooth 
side  rather  than  the  rough. 

The  appreciation  of  weight  comes  under  the  dead  strain. 
"We  remark  a  difference  between  half  an  ounce  and  an  ounce, 
or  betw^een  five  pounds  and  six  pounds,  when  we  try  first  the 
one  weight  and  then  the  other.    The  generality  of  people  can 


WEIGHT.  95 

appreciate  far  nicer  differences  than  these,  A  sensitive  hand 
would  feel  a  small  fraction  of  an  ounce  added  to  a  pound. 
In  this  respect,  there  would  appear  to  be  wide  constitutional 
differences,  and  also  differences  resulting  from  practice, 
among  different  individuals.  We  are  all  sensitive  to  some 
extent,  but  there  is  for  each  person  a  degree  of  minuteness  of 
addition  or  subtraction  that  ceases  to  be  felt ;  this  is  the  limit 
of  sensibility,  or  the  measure  of  delicacy  in  the  individual  case. 

There  are  two  modes  of  estimating  weight, — the  relative 
and  the  so-called  absolute.  By  relative  weights,  we  may  un- 
derstand two  or  more  present  weights  compared  together  ;  as 
when,  from  among  a  heap  of  stones,  we  pick  out  what  we  deem 
the  heaviest.  Absolute  weight  implies  a  permanent  standard, 
and  a  permanent  impression  of  that  standard.  When  I  lift 
a  weight  and  pronounce  it  to  be  seven  pounds,  I  make  a 
comparison  between  the  present  feeling  and  the  impression 
acquired  by  handling  the  standard  weight  of  seven  pounds, 
or  things  known  to  be  equivalent  thereto.  This  absolute 
comparison,  therefore,  implies  the  enduring  and  recoverable 
sensibility  to  impressions  of  resistance,  which  is  also  a  fact 
of  the  human  constitution.  We  can  acquire  a  permanent 
sense  of  any  one  given  weight  or  degree  of  resistance,  so  as 
to  be  able  at  all  times  to  compare  it  with  whatever  weight 
may  be  presented.  A  receiver  of  posted  letters  contracts 
an  engrained  sensibility  to  an  ounce,  and  can  say  of  any 
letter  put  into  his  hand  whether  it  produces  a  sensibility 
equal  to  or  under  the  standard.  This,  too,  is  a  result  pre- 
eminently intellectual  in  its  nature  :  the  process  of  acqui- 
sition that  brings  it  about  ranks  as  a  fundamental  property 
of  our  intelligence.  The  sensibilities  that  can  assume  this 
permanent  character,  so  as  to  be  used  in  fixing  weight  values, 
without  the  presence  of  their  original  cause,  are  truly  intel- 
lectual sensibilities. 

The  sensitiveness  to  relative  weight,  or  to  things  actually 
compared  together,  may  not  imply  great  sensitiveness  to 
absolute  weight,  which  involves  a  greater  or  less  degree  of 
retentiveness  or  memory. 


96  THE    MUSCULAR   FEELINGS. 

Although  the  use  of  the  balance  supereedes,  to  a  very 
great  extent,  the  appeal  to  the  sensibility  to  weight  residing 
in  the  muscular  system,  there  are,  of  course,  occasions 
where  this  sensibility  can  display  its  acuteness.  In  many 
manual  operations,  weight  is  often  estimated  without  the 
aid  of  the  balance.  In  the  throwing  of  a  missile  to  reach  a 
mark,  an  estimate  of  weight  must  enter  into  the  computation 
of  the  force  expended. 

In  appreciating  the  cohesiveness  of  tenacious  bodies — 
the  thickness  of  a  dough,  or  the  toughness  of  a  clay, — the 
same  sense  of  resistance  comes  into  operation.  In  like 
manner,  the  elasticity  of  elastic  substances — the  strength  of 
a  spring,  the  rebound  of  a  cushion — can  be  discriminated 
with  more  or  less  nicety. 

22.  The  second  mode  of  muscular  discrimination  respects 
the  Continuance  of  it.  A  dead  strain  of  unvarying  amount 
being  supposed,  we  are  differently  affected  according  to  its 
duration.  If  we  make  a  push  lasting  a  quarter  of  a  minute, 
and,  after  an  interval,  renew  it  for  half  a  minute,  there  is  a 
difference  in  the  consciousness  of  the  two  efforts.  The 
endurance  implies  an  increased  expenditure  of  power  in  a 
particular  mode,  and  we  are  distinctly  aware  of  such  an 
increase.  We  know,  also,  that  it  is  not  the  same  as  an 
increase  in  the  intensity  of  the  strain.  The  two  modes  of 
increase  are  not  only  discriminated  as  regards  degree,  they 
are  also  felt  to  be  different  modes.  The  one  is  our  feeling 
and  measure  of  Resistance  or  Force,  the  other  becomes 
ultimately  one  of  our  modes  of  estimating  variations  of 
Time.  It  is  a  circumstance  connected  with  impressions  on 
the  senses  generally,  that  they  should  be  differently  felt 
according  as  they  are  of  longer  or  shorter  duration.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  higher  emotions.  Moreover,  the  increase 
of  expenditure  in  the  form  of  increased  stimulus  must  be 
distinguished  by  us  from  the  increase  due  to  the  greater 
continuance  of  the  same  stimulus. 

The  estimate  of  continuance  attaches  no  less  to  Move- 
ment.    In  lifting  a  weight  successively,  one  foot,  two  feet. 


PACE    OF    MOVEMENTS.  97 

three  feet,  we  have  a  sense  of  inequality  of  expenditure  ; 
while  not  confounding  the  exertion  of  lifting  the  same 
weight  three  feet  with  raising  a  triple  weight  one  foot. 
Thus,  the  continuance  of  movement  expresses  more  than  the 
continuance  of  a  dead  strain.  It  is  the  sweep  of  the  organ 
through  space;  and  finally  connects  itself,  therefore,  with  the 
measure  of  space  or  extension.  For  although,  in  our  per- 
ception of  the  extended,  we  need  to  combine  sensations  of 
the  senses  with  sweep  of  movement,  yet  the  most  essential 
part  of  the  cognition  is  furnished  by  our  feelings  of  move- 
ment. From  the  working  of  a  process,  to  be  afterwards 
adverted  to,  we  learn  the  difference  between  the  coexisting 
and  the  successive,  between  Space  and  Time  ;  at  which 
stage,  muscular  sweep,  or  the  continuance  of  muscular 
movement,  is  a  means  of  discriminating  the  differences  of 
extended  matter,  or  Space.  It  teaches  us  first  the  degree  of 
linear  extension,  as  measured  by  the  sweep  of  a  limb  or 
other  organ.  A  greater  linear  magnitude  is  a  greater  con- 
tinuance of  a  simple  muscular  movement. 

The  discrimination  of  length  in  any  one  direction  ob- 
viously includes  extension  in  every  direction.  AVhether  it  be 
the  length,  breadth,  or  height  of  an  object,  the  perception  has 
precisely  the  same  character.  Hence,  superficial  and  solid 
dimensions,  the  size  or  magnitude  of  a  solid  mass,  come  to 
be  felt  through  the  same  fundamental  sensibility  to  expended 
muscular  force.  All  this  will  be  understood  more  fully  at  an 
after  stage,  when  we  shall  have  to  consider  muscularit}-  in 
connexion  with  the  senses  of  Touch  and  Sight. 

23.  Under  the  foregoing  head,  we  supposed  the  case  of 
steady  or  uniform  movement,  and  called  attention  to  the 
power  of  discriminating  the  greater  or  less  continuance 
of  it.  But  movements  may  vary  in  their  Speed  ;  and  it  is 
now  to  be  considered  how  the  mind  is  aff'ected  when  the 
speed  is  increased  or  diminished.  This  is  also  a  mode  of 
expending  additional  power ;  and  it  is  not  possible  for  us  to 
increase  our  expended  energy  without  being  conscious  of  the 
fact.     The  only  doubt  that  might  arise  is,  as  to  our  being 

7 


98  THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS. 

able  to  distinguish  all  the  various  modes  of  increase — in- 
crease in  the  dead  strain  at  any  one  instant,  increase  in  the 
duration  of  the  strain,  increase  in  the  duration  of  a  move- 
ment, increase  in  the  velocity  of  the  movement, — so  as  to  be 
av^are  which  mode  of  increase  or  diminution  we  are  under 
for  the  time.  If  we  confounded  all  these  modes  of  increase 
under  a  common  impression  of  intensified  energy,  our  mus- 
cular discrimination  would  be  wholly  inadequate  to  the  per- 
ception of  the  external  world  ;  and,  in  particular,  our  ability 
to  estimate  extension  would  have  to  be  referred  to  some  other 
part  of  our  constitution.  But  it  is  quite  certain  that  we  are 
differently  affected  under  these  various  situations.  Owe  con- 
sciousness is  not  the  same,  when  we  augment  the  energy  of 
a  dead  resistance,  as  when  we  protract  the  time  of  that  re- 
sistance ;  nor  is  it  the  same  when  we  prolong  the  duration 
of  a  uniform  movement,  as  when  we  augment  its  speed. 
We  are  aware,  when  we  accelerate  our  pace,  not  merely  that 
more  power  is  going  out  of  us,  but  that  such  power  is  in 
one  especial  mode,  which  we  distinguish  from  other  special 
modes.  This  being  assumed,  we  are  cognisant  of  degree  in 
the  rapidity  of  our  movements,  and  so  possess  the  power  of 
estimating  another  great  property  of  moving  bodies,  the 
velocity  of  their  motions.  The  measure  is,  perhaps,  first  taken 
on  our  own  movements,  and  thence  extended  to  other  mov- 
ing things  that  we  encounter.  When  we  follow  a  moving 
object  with  the  hand,  or  with  the  eye,  or  keep  pace  with 
it,  its  velocity  is  transferred  to  ourselves,  and  estimated 
accordingly. 

The  feeling  of  the  rapidity  of  muscular  contraction  has  a 
further  office.  It  is  an  additional  means  of  measuring  Ex- 
tension. An  increase  of  velocity  in  the  same  time  corresponds 
to  an  increase  of  range  of  extension,  no  less  than  the  same 
velocity  continued  for  a  greater  time.  Extent  of  Space  thus 
connects  itself  with  two  separate  discriminations,— Continu- 
ance, and  Velocity,  of  movement. 

The  distinct  feelings  from  the  various  forms  of  muscular 
exercise,  as  formerly  explained,  whereby  we  are  differently 


STATE    OF    A    MUSCLE'S    CONTEACTION.  99 

affected  according  as  movement  is  quick  or  slow,  are  thus  of 
great  intellectual  importance,  as  enabling  us  to  be  character- 
istically impressed  by  each  varying  degree  of  velocity.  The 
soothing  tendency  of  the  slow  motions,  and  the  exciting  effect 
of  the  comparatively  rapid  motions,  are  also  instrumental  in 
enabling  us  to  discriminate  degrees  of  velocity  directly,  and 
of  space  indirectly.* 

*  A  fourth  vai'iety  of  muscular  discrimination  may  be  pointed  out  as  in 
constant  use, — namely,  the  sense  of  the  amount  of  contraction  of  a  muscle, 
and  of  the  position  of  the  limb  in  consequence.  We  are  usually  aware,  not 
merely  that  we  are  putting  forth  a  force  of  a  certain  degree  and  continuance, 
but  that  we  are  operating  either  at  the  beginning  of  the  muscle's  contraction, 
so  to  speak,  or  at  some  advanced  stage  of  it.  This  determines,  of  course,  the 
attitude  or  position  of  the  part  moved.  We  know,  in  exerting  the  arm  in 
the  dark,  whether  it  is  extended  or  bent,  and  whether  it  is  thrown  before  or 
behind.  We  know,  in  grasping  anything  in  the  hand,  whether  the  hand  is 
very  much  stretched,  or  very  much  closed  ;  and  we  can  judge  of  the  different 
degrees  of  contraction  determining  intermediate  positions. 

By  this  sensibility  we  are  able,  after  experience,  to  estimate  the  magni- 
tudes of  bodies  without  moving  the  arm  or  the  hand,  or  other  organ.  By  the 
mere  stretching  of  the  arms,  without  attending  to  the  movement  implied  in 
that  stretch,  we  measure  in  our  mind  the  length  of  an  object  or  of  an  interval. 
By  the  dead  span  of  the  fingers  and  thumb,  we  can  estimate  any  length  that 
is  within  the  scope  of  the  parts. 

It  is  usual  to  describe  this  particular  discrimination  as  a  sense  of  the  state 
of  the  muscle's  contraction,  and  to  regard  it  as  the  primary  or  typical  form  of 
the  muscular  sense.  Now,  the  discrimination  must  no  doubt  be  an  original 
fact — one  cannot  see  how  it  could  be  acquired  ;  but  the  meaning  given  to  it, 
the  interpretation  of  the  position  of  the  limb,  and  of  the  magnitudes  embraced 
between  two  outstretched  parts,  is  wholly  acquired.  We  must  learn  by  ex- 
perience what  movements  correspond  to  the  transition  from  one  mode  of  con- 
traction to  the  other  ;  extension  must  be  measured,  first,  by  movement.  A 
definite  fixed  position  of  the  two  arms,  of  the  two  legs,  of  the  jaws,  of  the 
lips,  or  of  the  fingers  and  thumb,  comes  to  represent  a  series  of  movements, 
and  the  corresponding  estimate  of  space  passed  over  by  movement.  Witli 
one  hand  resting  upon  the  side  of  a  box,  and  the  other  resting  upon  the  top, 
we  can  tell  the  inclination  of  the  two  sides,  without  movement ;  our  experi- 
ence has  made  the  feeling  of  certain  combined  dead  tensions  a  symbol  of  a 
series  of  movements  in  different  directions.  Besides,  if  we  would  have  an 
accurate  appreciation  of  the  amount  of  the  contraction,  we  may  still,  in  many 
cases,  have  to  repeat  the  actual  movements. 

The  importance  of  this  mode  of  discrimination  is  perhaps  best  seen  in  the 
eyes.     It  enters  into  the  explanation  of  the  binocular  feeling  of  solidity. 

I  have  not  inserted  this  feeling  in  the  text  among  the  fundamental  dis- 
criminations of  muscle,  because  it  seems  bound  up  with  our  sensibility  to 


100  THE    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS. 

We  have  thus  gone  over  the  two  great  classes  of  muscular 
feelings  enumerated  at  the  outset  of  the  chapter.*  This 
fundamental  sensibility  of  our  nature  will  come  up  again  in 
a  variety  of  connexions  ;  and  much  has  still  to  be  said 
in  order  fully  to  explain  the  growth  of  the  perceptions  of 
Externality,  Force,  Space,  and  Time. 

movement  as  there  given.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  I  were  to  assume  the  sense 
of  the  state  of  contraction  as  the  primary  feeling,  the  sense  of  movement 
would  follow  ;  since  movement  implies  that  the  muscle  passes  through  a 
series  of  states  of  contraction,  and  the  conscious  sequence  of  these  states 
would  be  the  mental  fact  of  movement.  It  is  possible  that  the  feeling  of 
movement  may  consist  in  the  primary  feeling  of  expended  energy  (given 
in  its  purity  in  dead  resistance),  modified  by  a  muscular  sensibility  arising 
in  the  change  from  one  stage  of  contraction  to  another.  But,  be  this  as  it 
may,  I  think  it  enough  to  assume  as  distinct  and  fundamental  the  three 
modes  of  muscular  discrimination  discussed  in  the  text. 

*  Sir  William  Hamilton,  in  liis  Dissertations  on  Reid,  p.  864,  has  drawn 
a  distinction  between  what  he  calls  '  the  locomotive  faculty '  and  the  muscular 
sense,  maintaining  that  the  feeling  of  resistance,  energy,  power,  is  due  to  the 
first  and  not  to  the  second.  By  this  locomotive  faculty  he  means  the  feeling 
of  volitional  effort,  or  of  the  amount  of  force  given  forth  in  a  voluntary  action  ; 
while  he  reduces  the  application  of  the  term  '  muscular  sense  '  to  the  passive 
feeling  that  he  supposes  us  to  have  of  the  state  of  tension  of  the  muscle. 

His  words  are  :  '  It  is  impossible  that  the  state  of  muscular  feeling  can 
enable  us  to  be  immediately  cognisant  of  the  existence  and  degree  of  a  re- 
sisting force.  On  the  contrary,  supposing  all  muscular  feeling  abolished,  the 
power  of  moving  the  muscles  at  will  remaining,  I  hold  that  the  consciousness 
of  the  mental  motive  energy,  and  of  the  gx-eater  or  less  intensity  of  such 
energy  requisite,  in  different  circumstances,  to  accomplish  our  intention, 
would  of  itself  enable  us  always  to  perceive  the  fact,  and  in  some  degree  to 
measure  the  amormt,  of  any  resistance  to  our  voluntary  movement ;  howbeit  the 
concomitance  of  certain  feelings  with  the  different  states  of  muscular  tension, 
renders  this  cognition  not  only  easier,  but,  in  fact,  obtrudes  it  on  our  attention.' 

The  sense  of  expended  energy  I  take  to  be  the  great  characteristic  of  the 
muscular  consciousness,  distinguishing  it  from  every  mode  of  passive  sensa- 
tion. By  the  discriminative  feeling  that  we  possess  of  the  degree  and  con- 
tinuance of  this  energy,  we  recognise  the  difference  between  a  gi-eater  and  a 
less  stretch  of  muscular  tension,  and  this  appears  to  be  the  primary  sensibility 
operating  in  the  case.  The  other  sensibilities  of  muscle,  derived  through  the 
sensitive  fibres,  may  aid  us  in  the  import£,nt  discriminations  between  the 
different  modes  of  increased  energy  above  specified. 

I  may  here  express  the  obligations  we  are  under  to  Sir  William  Hamilton 
for  his  historical  sketch  of  the  doctrine  of  the  ^Muscular  Sense,  contained  in 
the  same  note  ;  which  is  not  the  least  valuable  and  interesting  of  his  many 
contributions  to  the  history  of  mental  science. 


'T 


/ 


CHAPTEK    II. 


SENSATION. 


BY  Sensations,  in  the  strict  meaning,  we  understand  the 
mental  impressions,  feeHngs,  or  states  of  conscious- 
iiess,  following  on  the  action  of  external  things  on  some  part 
of  the  bodv,  called  on  that  account  sensitive.  Such  are  the 
feelings  caused  by  tastes,  smells,  sounds,  or  sights.  These 
are  the  influences  said  to  be  external  to  the  mental  organisa- 
tion ;  they  are  distinguished  from  influences  originating 
within,  as,  for  example,  spontaneous  activity  (the  case  we 
have  already  considered),  the  remembrance  of  the  past,  or 
the  anticipation  of  the  future. 

The  Sensations  are  classified  according  to  the  bodily 
organs  concerned  in  their  production  ;  hence  the  division 
into  five  senses.  But,  along  with  distinctness  of  organ,  we 
have  distinctness  in  the  outward  objects,  and,  also,  in  the 
inward  consciousness.  Thus,  objects  of  sight  are  different 
from  objects  of  smell ;  or,  rather,  we  should  say,  that  the 
properties  and  the  agency  causing  vision  are  different  from 
the  properties  causing  smell,  taste,  or  hearing. 

The  difference  of  the  mental  feeling  or  consciousness  in 
the  different  senses  is  strongly  marked,  being  a  more 
characteristic  and  generic  difference  than  obtains  among 
the  sensations  of  any  one  sense.  We  never  confound  a 
feeling  of  sight  with  a  feeling  of  sound,  a  touch  with  a  smell. 
Leaving  out  of  account  pleasure  and  pain,  these  effects  have 
the  highest  degree  of  distinctness  that  human  feelings  can 
possess.  The  discrimination  of  them  is  sure  and  perfect, 
although  we  sometimes  try  to  assimilate  them. 


102  SENSATION. 

We  are  usually  said  to  have  five  Senses :  Sight  by  the 
eye,  Hearing  by  the  ear,  Touch  by  the  skin,  Smell  by  the 
nose,  Taste  by  the  mouth.  In  addition  to  these,  physiologists 
have  distinguished  a  sixth  sense,  of  a  more  vague  descrip- 
tion, by  the  title  of  common  or  general  sensibility, — as  will 
be  seen  in  the  following  extract  from  Messrs.  Todd  and 
Bowman. 

'  Under  the  name  of  common  or  general  sensibility  may.  be 
included  a  variety  of  internal  sensations,  ministering  for  the  most 
part  to  the  organic  functions  and  to  the  conservation  of  the  body. 
Most  parts  of  the  frame  have  their  several  feelings  of  comfort 
and  pleasure,  of  discomfort  and  pain.  In  many  of  the  more 
deeplv  seated  organs,  no  strong  sensation  is  ever  excited,  except 
in  the  form  of  pain,  as  a  warning  of  an  unnatural  condition. 
The  internal  sensations  of  warmth  and  cbillness,  of  hunger, 
thirst,  and  their  opposites,  of  nausea,  of  repletion  of  the  alimentary, 
and  genito-urinary  organs,  and  of  the  relief  succeeding  their 
evacuation,  of  the  privation  of  air,  etc.,  with  the  bodily  feelings 
attending  strongly  excited  passions  and  emotions,  may  be  men- 
tioned among  the  principal  varieties  of  common  sensations.' 

■  In  this  enumeration,  we  can  see  several  distinct  groups 
of  feelings,  and  can  refer  them  to  distinct  bodily  organs. 
Hunger,  thirst,  their  opposites,  nausea,  repletion,  and 
evacuation  of  the  alimentar}-  tube,  are  all  associated  with 
the  digestive  system.  They  might,  therefore,  be  termed  the 
digestive  sensations.  The  privation  of  air  causes  a  feeling 
whose  seat  is  the  lungs,  and  is  one  kind  of  sensibility 
associated  with  respiration.  The  sensations  of  warmth  and 
chillness  connect  themselves  with  the  skin,  with  the  lungs, 
and  with  the  organic  processes  in  general.  The  genito- 
urinary organs  have  a  class  of  feelings  so  special  and 
peculiar,  that  they  had  better  not  be  included  under  common 
sensibility. 

'  Looking  at  the  important  groups  of  feelings  here  indi- 
cated, important  at  least  as  regards  human  happiness  and 
misery,  considering,  also,  that  they  are  but  a  few  examples 
chosen  from  a  very  wide  field,  I  consider  it  expedient  to 


I 


THE    FIVE    SENSES   NOT   EXHAUSTIVE.  103 

describe  them  in  systematic  detail.  It  is  the  business  of  a 
work  hke  the  present  to  review  the  entire  range  of  human 
sensibiht}',  in  so  far  as  this  can  be  reduced  to  genera]  or 
comprehensive  heads  ;  and  the  question  is,  Where  ought 
these  Organic  feehngs  to  be  brought  in?  I  know  of  no 
better  arrangement  than  to  include  them  among  the  Sensa- 
tions. The  only  objection  is  the  want  of  outward  objects 
connected  with  them  in  every  case.  The  feelings  of 
comfort  or  discomfort  arising  from  the  circulation,  healthy 
or  otherwise,  are  not  sensations  in  the  full  meaning  of  the 
term ;  they  have  no  distinct  external  causes,  like  the  pleasures 
of  sound,  or  the  revulsion  of  a  bitter  taste.  But  the  reply 
to  this  objection  is,  first,  that  in  most  cases,  if  not  in  all,  an 
external  object  can  be  assigned  as  the  stimulus  of  the 
feeling :  for  example,  in  the  digestive  feelings,  the  contact  of 
-the  food  with  the  surface  of  the  alimentary  canal  is  the 
specific  cause  or  object  of  the  feeling ;  so,  the  respiratory 
feelings  may  be  viewed  as  sensations  having  the  air  for  their 
outward  object  or  antecedent.  And,  next,  with  reference  to 
the  cases  .where  feeling  cannot  be  associated  with  an 
external  contact,  as  in  the  acute  pains  of  diseased  parts,  we 
maj^  plead  the  strong  analogy  in  other  respects  between 
such  feelings  and  proper  sensations.  In  all  else,  except  the 
existence  of  an  outward  stimulus,  the  identity  is  complete. 
The  seat  of  the  feeling  is  a  sensitive  mass,  which  can  be 
affected  by  irritants  external  to  it,  and  which  yields  nearly 
the  same  effects  in  the  case  of  a  purely  internal  stimulus. 
So  much  is  this  the  fact,  that  we  are  constantly  comparing 
our  inward  feelings  to  proper  sensations ;  we  talk  of  being 
oppressed,  as  with  a  heavy  burden,  of  being  cut,  or  torn, 
or  crushed,  or  burned,  under  acute  internal  sensibilit}'. 
Moved  by  such  considerations,  I  class  these  feelings  with 
sensations,  and  place  them  first  in  the  order  of  the  Senses, 
under  the  title  of  Organic  feelings,  or  Sensations  of  Organic 
Life. 

In  the  Senses,  as  thus  made  up,  it  is  useful  to  remark  a 
division  into  two  groups,  according  to  their  importance  in  the 


104  SENSATION    IN    GENERAL. 

operations  of  the  Intellect.  If  we  examine  the  Sensations 
of  Organic  Life,  Taste,  and  Smell,  we  shall  find  that  as  re- 
gards pleasm-e  and  pain,— that  is  to  say,  in  the  point  of  view 
of  Feelmg  or  Emotion,— they  are  of  great  consequence  ;  but 
that  as  regards  the  permanent  forms  and  imagery  employed 
in  the  processes  of  the  Intellect  they  contribute  comparatively 
little.  This  last  function  is  far  more  served  by  Touch, 
Hearing,  and  Sight,  w^hich  may,  therefore,  be  called  the 
Intellectual  Senses  by  pre-eminence  ;  they  being,  however, 
not  thereby  prevented  from  serving  the  other  function  also, 
or  from  entering  into  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  our  emo- 
tional life. 

Preliminary  Eemarks  upon  Sensation  in  General. 

The  following  topics  belong  to  the  consideration  of  Sen- 
sation at  large,  and  may  be  adverted  to  at  the  commence- 
ment, while  they  will  be  more  specially  elucidated  as  the 
exposition  proceeds. 

(1)  While  sensation  is  not  improperly  regarded  as  the 
beginning  of  conscious  life,  both  intellectual  and  emotional, 
and  as  the  foundation  of  our  knowledge,  both  of  the  world 
and  of  ourselves,  and  is  thus  in  contrt^st  with  Thought  as  a 
later  and  complex  product,  this  must  be  held  subject  to  the 
quahfication  that  the  ordinary  sensations  of  everyday  life 
have  lost  their  primitive  character,  and  no  longer  possess  the 
simplicity  and  purity  of  what  might  be  called  their  original 
state.  They  continue  to  have  one  feature  that  keeps  them 
distinct  from  the  thought-processes, — namely,  they  owe  their 
being  to  actual  contact  with  the  outside  world,  while 
Memory,  for  example,  is  independent  of  such  origin.  But 
the  conscious  result  of  a  sensation  in  mature  hfe,  while  con- 
taining an  element  of  freshness  and  vividness  that  cannot  be 
given  in  other  ways,  is  a  cumulation  of  present  stimulus  and 
previous  impressions  without  number  of  the  same  effect. 
Practically,  it  is  this  aggregate  of  past  and  present  that  we 
call  a  sensation.     We  have  not,  usually,  to  take  account  of 


SENSATION    AN    AGGREGATE.  105 

the  circumstance  that  only  a  very  minute  portion  of  the 
conscious  state  arising  is  due  to  the  present  stimulus.  The 
circumstance  that  makes  the  reference  important  is,  that 
the  actuality  of  the  present  shock  is  the  necessary  occasion 
of  evoking  in  a  vivid  form  the  total  aggregate.  We  may 
have  tasted  sugar  thousands  of  times,  and  yet  the  pure 
memory  part  of  the  accumulated  impression  revived  as 
memory  is  feeble  indeed  compared  with  the  same  during  the 
incidence  of  a  new  or  actual  sensation. 

(2)  Sensation  is  pre-eminently  conditioned  by  the  great 
law  of  Relativity,  of  which  it  furnishes  characteristic  ex- 
amples, showing  both  the  range  and  the  limitations  of  the 
law. 

(3)  Sensations  are  said  to  vary  in  Degree  or  amount.  Here, 
however,  we  must  begin  by  distinguishing  between  their  In- 
tellectual and  their  Emotional  character.  As  intellectual 
elements,  their  main  character  is  Discrimination  ;  the  more 
discriminative  they  are,  the  more  intellectual  they  are. 
This  is  not  incompatible  with  another  peculiarity  called 
Vividness,  whose  meaning  and  criterion  is  the  hold  they  take 
of  the  attention,  so  as  to  exclude  or  submerge  rival  impres- 
sions. It  is  still  an  element  of  Intellect,  properly  so  called. 
Contrasted  with  this  class  of  effects  is  the  properly  Emotional 
aspect,  or  the  aspect  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.  It  is  to  this 
aspect  that  intensity  has  a  more  especial  application  and 
importance ;  it  determines  the  great  fact  of  our  being,  as 
expressed  by  many  well-known  designations  of  enjoyment 
and  suffering,  and  as  making  up  the  motive  to  our  activity. 

In  connexion  with  Degree,  a  law  has  been  propounded 
connecting  strength  of  stimulus  with  conscious  intensity 
in  the  result.  It  is  noticed  that,  whilp  a  certain  strength 
of  stimulus  is  followed  by  a  certain  strength  of  feeling,  an 
addition  to  the  stimulus,  say  doubling  it,  does  not  make  the 
same  addition  to  the  sensation  regarded  as  a  conscious  state  ; 
we  must  go  on  increasing  and  increasing  the  one  in  a  much 
higher  ratio  in  order  to  get  a  steady  increase  of  the  other. 
As  propounded  by  Fechner,  this  law  was  directed  upon  the 


106  SENSATION    IN    GEXEEAL. 

purely  intellectual  property  of  sensation, — namely,  discrimi- 
nation ;  he  did  not  attempt  to  verify  it  upon  emotional  states, 
as,  for  example,  pure  pleasure.  Notoriously,  something  of 
the  same  kind  would  apply  in  this  case  also  ;  but  its  for- 
mula would  probably  not  assume  anything  of  the  nature  of 
numerical  statement,  nor  would  it  be  specially  connected 
with  sense  pleasure  in  particular. 

Each  one  of  the  senses  in  detail  has  to  be  looked  upon  in 
the  twofold  aspect  now  described  ;  that  is  to  say,  as  furnish- 
ing both  intellectual  and  emotional  products — appealing  at 
one  time  to  the  Intellect  and  at  another  time  to  the  Feelings. 
Their  exhaustive  description  includes  both  elements.  Even 
in  the  more  strictlv  emotional  forms,  discrimination  is  far 
from  wanting, — as  will  be  seen  in  the  course  of  the  enu- 
meration. 

In  defining  the  Sensations,  we  put  forward  the  three 
constituents  or  properties  of  Object,  Organ,  and  resulting 
Feeling.  For  the  Five  Senses,  these  are  well  marked  and 
distinct.  For  the  group  of  Organic  Sensations,  there  is  less 
of  distinct  separation,  as  will  be  seen  presently. 

Under  Sensation,  we  have  to  anticipate  processes  and 
considerations  that,  in  reality,  belong  to  the  treatment  of  the 
Intellect ;  it  being  impracticable  to  carry  on  an  exposition 
of  Sense  in  the  abstract.  This  is  an  inevitable  necessity, 
which  recurs  again  and  again  in  the  exposition  of  science. 
When  once  it  is  well  understood,  it  leads  to  no  confusion ; 
although,  on  the  face  of  it,  it  has  an  air  of  irregularity,  not 
to  say  paradox.  The  process  to  be  afterwards  explained  as 
Association  by  Similarity  is  taken  for  granted  in  regarding 
each  sensation  as  an  aggregate  of  present  and  past  im- 
pressions. In  assigning  the  properties  of  sensation,  we 
necessarily  anticipate  the  two  other  great  fundamentals  of 
Intellect, — namely.  Discrimination  and  Association  by  Con- 
tiguity ;  the  differences  among  sensations  having  special 
reference,  among  other  things,  to  their  behaviour  in  con- 
nexion with  those  great  intellectual  constituents. 

The  bearing  of  these  generalities  is  retrospective,  no  less 


MEANING    OF    COMMON    SENSIBILITY.  107 

than  prospective ;  the  Muscular  Feehngs  above  described 
being  subject  to  the  same  considerations  as  the  other 
members  of  the  department  now  under  discussion. 

General  or  Common  Sensihility. 

The  terms  General  or  Common  Sensibility  are  introduced 
to  express  a  contrast  occurring  even  in  some  of  the  five 
senses,  but  still  more  notably  under  the  group  of  Sensations 
of  Organic  Life.  The  contrast  is  brought  out  on  two 
different  points.  The  one  is  the  distinction  between  un- 
localised  and  localised  sensation.  In  most  of  the  senses, 
each  sensation  in  the  body  has  a  local  seat  to  which  we 
refer  it, — as  contact  in  the  skin,  taste  in  the  mouth,  hearing 
in  the  ear.  A  common  or  general  sensation,  while  a  genuine 
item  of  our  consciousness,  points  to  no  particular  place  as  its 
seat.     Examples  will  be  furnished  as  we  proceed. 

The  second  peculiarity  of  general  sensation  is  the  absence 
of  a  marked  or  characteristic  feature,  by  which  one  sensation 
is  distinguished  in  the  consciousness  from  another.  This  is 
seen  best  in  the  pleasurable  class  of  general  sensations.  A 
feeling  of  comfortable  warmth  over  the  body  at  large  is 
hardly  distinguished  from  the  later  stages  of  healthy  digestion, 
or  from  the  tone  of  elation  due  to  a  good  condition  of  the 
nervous  system.  What  we  do  discriminate  in  all  sensation 
is  degree,  or  amount,  although  the  gradations  as  regards  the 
present  class  are  not  very  delicately  marked. 

AYe  have  vague  modes  of  exhilaration  and  depression 
scarcely  distinguishable  ni  the  consciousness  from  what 
occurs  under  the  senses  in  the  course  of  our  higher  emotional 
and  active  life.  When  we  are  opposed,  thwarted,  or  balked 
in  some  enterprise  or  object  of  pursuit,  we  experience  a  con- 
dition of  pain,  having  no  specific  characteristic  to  distinguish 
it  from  the  depression  due  to  our  vague  organic  sensibilities. 
It  is  the  same  with  the  opposite  condition  of  exhilaration 
from  success,  the  overcoming  of  obstacles  or  resistance,  and 
the  attamment  of  much-wished  objects.    There  may  go  along 


108  SENSATION    IN    GENERAL. 

with  such  occasions  some  of  the  more  definite  emotions,  such 
as  the  feeling  of  victory  over  rivals,  the  gratifying  of  special 
affections  ;  but,  in  many  instances,  we  can  discern  in  con- 
sciousness nothing  beyond  the  very  general  condition  of 
pure  exhilaration. 

For  these  two  opposite  modes  of  general  sensibility,  we 
have,  as  already  remarked  (p.  75),  no  means  of  discrimina- 
tion or  measure  except  Degree  and  Continuance.  It  is  of 
very  great  importance  to  our  knowledge  of  the  workings  of 
the  mind  to  assign  the  most  effectual  modes  of  ascertaining 
and  stating  the  measure  or  amount  of  the  great  fundamental 
attributes  of  pleasure  and  pain,  whether  in  the  form  of 
vague  sensibility  or  when  accompanied  by  attendant  differ- 
ences of  a  more  specific  kind. 

SENSATIONS   OF   ORGANIC   LIFE. 

1.  The  classification  of  these  may  proceed  according  to 
the  parts  where  they  have  their  seat, — in  other  words,  accord- 
ing to  the  organs  involved.  I  have  already  adverted  to  one 
group  connected  with  the  Muscles  :  these  will  now  be  de- 
scribed in  full.  Of  coequal  importance  in  our  sensitive  life 
are  the  feelings  connected  with  the  Organs  of  Digestion.  Not 
less  important  is  the  process  of  Bespiration,  seated  in  the 
Liungs ;  although,  from  peculiar  circumstances,  less  produc- 
tive of  sensation.  When  we  pass  from  these  great  functions 
to  the  action  of  the  Heart  and  the  Circulation  of  the  Blood, 
we  find  it  more  difiicult  to  point  to  a  special  or  isolated 
group  of  feelings  ;  nevertheless,  whether  as  operating  in  their 
own  character  or  as  contributing  to  the  efficiency  or  ineffi- 
ciency of  other  functions,  the  Heart,  Arteries,  and  Veins  are, 
more  or  less,  causes  of  sensibility.  The  processes  of  Secre- 
tion, Assimilation,  and  Absorption  at  large,  so  essential  to 
the  workings  of  the  system,  in  their  limited  alliance  with 
nerves  of  sense,  may  be  supposed  to  contribute  a  quota  to 
the  collective  mass  of  organic  feeling.  Last  of  all,  the 
Nerves  and  Nerve  Centres,  while  being  the  essential  seat  of  all 


OEGANIC    MUSCULAR    FEELINGS.  109 

sensibility  whatever,  have  a  class  of  feelings  depending  on 
their  nutrition  and  their  waste,  and  the  changes  incident  to 
their  various  states  in  health  and  disease. 


Organic  Muscular  Feelings. 

2.  Muscular  sensibihty  is  manifested  by  the  pain  that  is 
felt  when  a  muscle  is  cut,  lacerated,  or  otherwise  violently 
injured,  or  when  it  is  seized  with  spasm.  These  forms  of 
pain  are  so  many  states  of  consciousness,  having  their  seat 
or  origin  in  the  muscular  tissue  ;  the  integrity  of  the  nerves 
and  nerve  centres  being  hkewise  essential  to  this,  as  to  every 
other  kind  of  sensibility. 

In  describing  the  sensations,— that  is,  the  states  of  feeling 
arising  through  the  Senses, — we  shall  have,  in  each  case,  to 
assign  the  external  agent  that  causes  the  Sensation  (hght, 
sound,  etc.)  ;  to  follow  this  up  with  an  account  of  the  action 
or  change  effected  on  the  sensitive  surface — as  the  skin,  the 
tongue,  etc.  ;  and,  then,  to  proceed  with  a  delineation  of  the 
feeling  itself,  according  to  the  plan  already  laid  down. 

In  the  case  of  the  proper  muscular  sensibilities  described 
in  the  foregoing  chapter,  an  external  agent  could  not  be 
assigned  in  the  same  sense  as  hght  is  to  the  eye,  or  hard 
surfaces  to  the  skm.  But,  with  reference  to  the  first  class  as 
set  forth^cuts,  lacerations,  and  violent  injuries, — we  dis- 
cern both  an  external  agent  and  an  assignable  change  in  the 
substance  of  the  muscle.  There  is,  in  those  circumstances, 
a  sudden  break  in  the  continuity  of  the  fibre,  which  is  an 
effect  productive  of  pains  in  almost  any  tissue  of  the  body. 
This  is,  manifestly,  one  of  the  effects  calculated  to  give  an  in- 
tense shock  to  the  nerves,  originating  an  energetic  and  pun- 
gent stimulus,  which  is  transmitted  to  the  centres,  and  there 
wakens  up  both  sensation  and  activity  in  violent  forms. 

Such  being  the  bodily  Origin,  let  us  complete  the  con- 
sideration of  the  PHYSICAL  side,  by  attending  to  the  outward 
effects  or  embodiments,  constituting  the  Expression  of  the 
feeling.      And    the   remarks  on  this  point,  as  weU   as   the 


110  SENSATIONS  OF  ORGANIC  LIFE. 

further  delineation  of  the  conscious  state,  will  serve  to  typify 
acute  physical  pains  generally. 

It  is  well  known  that  a  characteristic  expression  attends 
Acute  Pains.  The  features  are  violently  contorted,  the  voice 
is  excited  to  sharp  utterances,  the  whole  body  is  agitated. 
Sometimes,  the  ordinary  movements  are  quickened  ;  at  other 
times,  contortions  and  unusual  gestures  are  displayed.  It 
would  appear  that  the  agency  causing  the  pain  is  such  as 
to  stimulate,  to  an  intense  degree,  the  whole  moving  system. 
Indeed,  the  infliction  of  pain  (within  limits)  is  one  of  the 
customary  modes  of  rousing  an  animal  or  a  human  being 
from  lethargy  to  activity.  There  is  also  a  well-known  form 
of  the  countenance  that  marks  the  condition  of  pain,  being 
produced  by  certain  movements  of  the  mouth,  the  nostrils, 
and  the  eyes,  to  be  afterwards  analysed  ;  but,  whatever  be  the 
direction  given  to  these  movements,  they  are  marked  by  the 
characteristic  of  violence  or  intensity. 

The  accompaniment  of  sobbing  shows  that  the  involun- 
tary muscles  and  the  glands  also  are  affected. 

But  we  should  give  a  most  inadequate  account  of  the 
embodiment  of  pain,  if  we  failed  to  note  the  successive  stages 
of  the  manifestation.  While  the  first  shock  may  have  all 
the  characters  of  violence  and  exalted  energy  now  mentioned, 
there  follows,  after  a  time,  a  state  of  prostration  and  ex- 
haustion, showing  that  these  lively  manifestations  are  no 
proof  of  an  increase  of  vital  energy  on  the  whole.  On  the 
contrary,  it  is  demonstrable  that,  of  vital  energy  on  the  whole, 
there  is  a  great  decrease.  Violent  exercises  of  any  kind 
soon  wear  out  the  strength ;  but  the  depression '  of  vital 
power  in  all  parts  of  the  system— organic  functions  as  well 
as  muscles, — after  an  attack  of  pain,  is  much  beyond  what 
would  follow  from  the  same  discharge  of  muscular  energy  in 
the  absence  of  pain.  This  is  a  most  material  consideration, 
which  is  not  to  be  disguised  by  the  show  of  increased  energy 
in  the  early  stages.  The  director  of  the  medical  staff  of  the 
British  Army  in  the  Crimea  was  gravely  in  error  when  he 
discouraged  the  use  of  chloroform  in  surgical  operations,  on 


PHYSICAL    ACUTE    PAINS    TYPIFIED.  Ill 

the  ground  that  pain  is  a  stimulant.  If  the  termination  is 
taken  into  account  as  well  as  the  beginning,  pain,  in  every 
form,  so  far  from  being  a  stimulant,  destroys  the  vital 
energies.  Not  only  does  muscular  exhaustion  follow,  but  the 
organic  processes — the  circulation,  respiration,  and  digestion 
— are  greatly  enfeebled  ;  an  effect  that  does  not  usually  result 
from  mere  violence  of  bodily  movement. 

These  bodily  manifestations,  which  are  the  natural  ac- 
companiment of  acute  pain  (arising  as  an  effect  of  the  same 
cause),  by  being  freely  indulged  in,  operate  as  a  diversion 
and  a  relief  to  the  mental  system.  There  is,  probably,  a 
physical  sequence  in  this  fact  also.  Great  muscular  exertion 
draws  off  the  circulation  from  the  brain  to  the  muscles  ;  and 
the  effusion  of  tears,  also,  in  some  way  reduces  the  congestion. 
We  are  not,  however,  rashly  to  conclude  that,  under  great 
pain,  a  free  vent  to  all  the  manifestations  is  preferable  to 
forced  quiescence  or  suppression  ;  there  is  a  great  expendi- 
ture of  power  under  both  modes. 

3.  To  pass  now  to  the  Mental  side,  or  the  character  of 
the  states  in  question,  viewed  as  Feelings.  We  know,  each 
one  by  our  own  consciousness,  what  they  are ;  and  they  are 
generalised,  pointed  out,  and  understood,  by  such  names  as 
suffering,  agony,  torture. 

The  quality  of  the  feeling  is  pain.  The  degree  is  intense 
or  acute.  The  measure  is  obtained  in  a  twofold  manner  : 
by  comparing  the  pain  with  other  pains,  and  by  attending  to 
the  amount  of  pleasure  that  it  can  neutralise.  Either  way, 
we  consider  the  sufferings  of  wounds,  lacerations,  and  acute 
derangements  of  our  sensitive  tissues,  to  rank  among  our 
greatest  sufferings,  our  worst  miseries.  As  respects  speci- 
alities of  character,  we  find  language  employed  to  discri- 
minate the  nature  of  different  pains.  A  cut  or  a  scald  is 
different  from  a  fit  of  rheumatism  or  gout.  Neuralgia  is 
different  from  the  electric  shock.  We  describe  the  varieties 
by  such  epithets  as  burning,  gnawing,  shooting,  racking ; 
and  there  is  a  pathological  interest  attaching  to  these 
distinctions. 


112  SENSATIONS    OF    OEGANIC    LIFE. 


Pain  is  apt  rt>i?ouse  some  special  emotion,  varying  with 

the  jgeneral  temperament    of   the    individuah       Convulsive 

■"grief,  rage,  terror,  are  all  liable  to  be  awakened,  sometimes 

one,  and  sometimes  another ;  even  in  the  same  individual, 

circumstances  may  rule  the  special  selection. 

Our  plan  of  description  requires  us,  next,  to  advert  to  the 
A^olitional  characteristics  of  acute  pain.  The  general  prin- 
ciple of  volition,  as  applied  to  pains,  holds  in  this  instance. 
Such  pains,  in  proportion  to  their  intensity,  stimulate  us  to 
efforts  for  mitigating  and  putting  an  end  to  them  when  pre- 
sent, and  for  avoiding  them  when  there  is  danger  of  their 
recurrence.  The  peculiarity  of  the  case  that  most  deserves 
notice  is  that,  since,  for  a  time,  they  are  stimulants  of 
activity,  the  disposition  to  work  for  their  abatement  is  very 
powerful  at  first,  but  fails  at  last  with  the  prostration  of  the 
energies.  Volition  demands,  not  merely  an  adequate  stimulus 
of  pain  or  pleasure,  but  also  a  sufficient  aixiount  of  active 
energy  at  the  moment.  The  first  stage  of  acute  pain  may 
supply  this,  through  the  exalted  intensity  of  the  nervous 
force  ;  in  the  latter  stages  of  consequent  exhaustion,  there  is 
a  necessary  failure  of  power,  and  the  energy  of  avoidance  is 
no  longer  a  measure  of  the  painful  condition. 

The  movements  that  constitute  the  proper  emotional 
manifestations  are  apt  to  be  mixed  up  and  complicated  with 
movements  directed  by  the  will  with  a  view  to  relief.  It  is 
generall}"  easy  to  discriminate  the  two  classes,  and  it  is 
important  for  understanding  our  mental  structure  that  they 
should  be  discriminated.  The  volitional  movements  are 
such  as  are  maintained  solely  because  they  bring  a  felt 
alleviation.  If  any  specific  posture  is  of  this  character,  it  is 
energetically  adhered  to  ;  and,  if  the  mere  vehemence  of  the 
outburst  is  found  to  deaden  our  sensibility  to  the  "pain,  we 
are  induced  thereby  to  keep  up  the  gesticulations  prompted 
in  the  first  instance  by  the  emotional  Vv^ave.  Even  in  the 
lower  animals,  when  we  witness  the  convulsions  that  follow 
a  shock  to  the  physical  system,  we  may  satisfy  ourselves' as 
to  the  existence  of  true  volitional  movements,  in  company 


MEMORY    FOR    ACUTE    PAINS.  113 

with  the  demonstrations  that  are  the  proper  embodiment  of 
the  pain. 

If  we  wish  to  measure  the  vohtional  urgency  of  a  feeHng, 
we  can  adopt  the  same  mode  of  comparison  as  that  suggested 
for  the  degree  of  pleasure  or  pain.  Wlien  two  feelings 
prompt  in  opposite  ways,  the  one  that  determines  the  con- 
duct is  said  to  be  volitionally  the  stronger. 

There  remains  now  the  bearing  of  the  feelings  in  question 
on  the  Intellect.  Here,  as  in  the  AYill,  there  is  a  general 
principle,  liable  to  exceptions  and  modifications  according  to 
the  circumstances  of  each  particular  case.  The  principle  is, 
that  feehngs  are  discriminated,  identified,  and  remembered 
according  to  their  degree,  whether  in  intensity  or  in  quantity. 
This  law  holds  within  a  moderate  range  of  excitement.  A 
very  feeble  impression  cannot  be  nicely  discriminated,  and 
is  little  remembered.  But  the  limitation  arises  when  the 
degree  is  excessive  and  overpowering.  There  is  a  pitch  of 
physical  agony  that  overpowers  the  purely  intellectual 
function  of  discrimination  ;  and,  although  retentiveness  is 
stimulated  by  intensity,  the  remembrance  becomes  more  and 
more  inadequate  to  the  fulness  of  the  reality.  Not  only  are 
we  unable  to  reinstate  the  acuteness  of  the  suffering,  but  we 
are  unable  to  figure  to  ourselves  even  the  character  of  the 
pain,  until  it  has  become  familiar  by  many  repetitions. 

A  good  retentiveness  for  acute  pains  has  not  the  intel- 
lectual importance  possessed  by  the  memory  for  sights  and 
sounds,  but  it  has  a  twofold  practical  importance.  In  the 
first  place,  on  it  depends  the  exercise  of  the  will  in  the  way 
of  prevention.  When  a  feeling  ceases  in  the  actual,  it  can 
have  no  volitional  power,  except  as  it  is  vividly  presented  in 
idea;  and,  on  this  ground,  the  more  lively  the  recollection,  the 
more  energetically  are  we  moved  in  our  precautionary  labours 
as  regards  the  future.  The  degree  of  retentiveness  for  pain 
is  thus  the  intellectual  foundation  of  Prudence.  It  is,  in  the 
second  place,  a  condition  of  Sympathy,  or  the  power  of 
entering  into  the  feelings  of  others  when  suffering  under  a 
like  infliction. 

8 


114  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC    LIFE. 

4.  The  muscular  pains  that  have  been  the  subject  of  the 
foregoing  description,  are  those  arising  from  cuts,  lacerations, 
and  violent  injuries,  which  are  incidental  to  every  kind  of 
tissue.  AVe  have  not  included  the  characteristic  pain  of 
muscle — cramp,  or  spasm.  Cramp  is  known  to  be  a  violent 
contraction  of  a  muscle,  in  whole  or  in  part,  due  to  some 
irritation  of  the  motor  nerves  that  supply  the  muscle.  It  is 
a  contraction  probably  far  beyond  what  can  be  induced  by  a 
voluntary  effort,  and  does  not  relate  itself  in  any  way  to  a 
power  consciously  proceeding  from  the  brain.  The  state  of 
cramp  acts  violently  upon  the  sensitive  fibres  of  the  muscle  ; 
and,  according  to  Dr.  Brown-Sequard,  the  pain  is  in  propor- 
tion to  the  resistance  offered  to  the  muscle's  contraction. 
'  I  suppose,'  he  says,  '  a  case  of  painful  contraction  of  the 
anterior  muscles  of  the  thigh  ;  the  pain  is  increased  every 
time  the  contracted  muscles  are  elongated  ;  i.e.,  when  the 
resistance  to  the  contraction  is  augmented ;  on  the  other 
hand,  it  diminishes  when  the  resistance  to  the  contraction 
is  rendered  less  than  it  was,  and  at  last  it  disappears  entirely, 
or  almost  entirely,  when  the  resistance  is  completely,  or  almost 
completely,  destroyed '  (Lectures,  p.  7).  The  pains  in  the 
uterus  are  of  the  nature  of  spasm,  and  are  relieved  by  the 
discharge  of  the  contents.  An  explanation  is  now  afforded 
of  what  was  at  first  considered  a  paradoxical  fact, — the 
production  of  pain  by  stimulating  the  anterior  or  motor 
roots  of  the  spinal  nerves.  The  effect  of  such  stimulation  is 
to  contract  the  muscles,  not  in  that  measured  and  moderate 
degree  occurring  in  their  contraction  by  the  will,  but  with 
the  violence  of  cramp,  thereby  imparting  a  shock  to  the  sen- 
sitive nerves  of  the  muscle.  When  the  posterior  or  sensitive 
roots  of  the  nerves  are  cut,  the  pain  appears  no  longer. 
These  explanations  are  interesting,  as  they  remove  what 
appeared  objections  to  the  discovery  associated  with  the 
name  of  Bell. 

It  is  not  requisite  to  repeat  the  particulars  of  the  syste- 
matic description  for  this  peculiar  case.  It  ranks  with  the 
class  of  acute  pains  in  all  the  general  characters.     But  it  is. 


► 


FEELING   OF   REPOSE    UNDER   FATIGUE.  115 

perhaps,  in  its  nature  the  most  acute  and  violent  of  any.  We 
can  discriminate  it  from  cuts,  scalds,  inflammations,  and 
sores  ;  the  familiar  name  '  racking  '  pain  describes  and  classi- 
fies it.  Wherever  we  have  the  experience  characterised  by 
this  epithet,  it  is  probable  that  the  seat  is  in  the  muscles, 
and  that  the  action  is  cramp  or  spasm.  The  involuntary 
muscles  of  the  uterus,  and  of  the  alimentary  canal,  occasion 
the  most  aggravated  forms  of  the  pain. 

5.  Another  class  of  feelings  connected  with  the  muscles 
may  be  specified  under  the  same  general  head  of  Organic 
Feelings,  those  arising  from  over-fatigue.  This  cause  is  known 
to  produce  acute  pains  of  various  degrees  of  intensity,  from 
the  easily  endurable  up  to  severe  suffering.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  advert  to  these  more  specifically,  as  they  are 
rendered  sufficiently  comprehensible  when  we  refer  them  to 
the  genus  of  acute  pains  of  the  muscles.  They  are  part  of 
the  misery  attending  manual  toil,  and  are  also  used  for 
purposes  of  punishment. 

The  characteristic  state  of  supporting  a  heavy  burden  is 
a  form  of  general  depression,  to  which  many  modes  of  suffer- 
ing are  habitually  compared. 

Very  dilfereut  is  the  state  of  feeling  produced  by  mere 
ordinary  fatigue,  which  we  may  introduce  in  the  present 
connexion.  This  is  a  state  not  at  all  painful,  but  the  oppo- 
site. It  is  one  of  the  pleasurable  experiences  allied  with  the 
muscular  system. 

In  this  case,  there  is  a  pleasurable  feeling  more  massive 
than  acute.  If  a  considerable  number  of  the  larger  muscles 
have  been  in  exercise,  the  sensibility  is  proportionably  great. 
Various  elements  may  enter  into  the  effect.  The  circulation 
of  the  blood,  directed  strongly  for  a  time  to  the  muscular 
tissue,  now  returns  in  a  more  liberal  supply  to  the  other 
organs, — the  brain,  the  stomach,  etc., — and  the  general  sensi- 
bility of  the  system  is  diverted,  if  not  increased.  There  is, 
in  the  next  place,  an  agreeable  reaction  from  what  may  have 
been  the  commencing  pains  of  fatigue.  Allowing  for  those 
two  collateral  effects,  we  are  still  to  suppose  that  the  muscle 


116  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC    LIFE. 

itself  gives  rise  to  a  certain  pleasurable  feeling  when  in  this 
state.  The  degree  of  it  may  be,  on  the  whole,  considerable. 
It  is  one  of  the  pleasures  of  a  life  of  hard  exercise  or  bodily 
toil ;  and,  taken  along  with  the  luxurious  slumbers  and  the 
general  sensation  of  health  following  in  its  train,  it  must  be 
regarded  as  an  appreciable  fraction  of  human  enjoyment. 

The  connexion  already  remarked  on  between  slow  move- 
ments and  approaching  sleep,  extends  also  to  muscular  repose 
and  sleep.  The  massive  sensation  experienced  as  we  fall 
asleep  maj'  have  its  seat,  in  no  inconsiderable  degree,  in  the 
muscular  tissue,  especially  after  hard  exercise,  when  this 
sensibility  is  most  powerfully  manifested.  It  may,  however, 
be  connected  in  some  degree  with  the  state  of  the  nervous 
tissue  which,  on  the  approach  of  sleep,  undergoes  a  notable 
transformation . 

6.  Tendons,  Ligaments,  Joints. — These  parts,  being  sup- 
plied with  sensitive  nerves,  give  birth  to  a  certain  amount  of 
sensibility,  which  is  most  decisively  shown  under  severe 
strain,  disease,  or  injury.  A  portion  of  this  sensibility 
is  manifested  under  muscular  exercise, — more  especiallj^  in 
extreme  fatigue.  The  pains  of  muscular  exhaustion  are 
shown  by  our  consciousness  to  be  localised  partly  in  the 
belly  of  the  muscle  and  partly  in  the  joints  and  tendons  ; 
even  the  character  of  the  different  modes  being  to  all 
appearance  distinct. 

In  the  discussion  as  to  the  exact  seat  of  our  muscular 
sensibility,  the  participation  of  the  joints  is  put  forward  by 
some  as  a  leadnig  factor.  The  most  indubitable  inference 
from  both  anatomy  and  self-consciousness  would  seem  to  be 
the  concurrence  of  these  parts  in  the  pains  of  fatigue.  There 
is,  apparently,  nothing  to  show  that  they  contribute  a  share 
in  the  pleasurable  side  of  our  muscular  activity  ;  and  still 
less  to  prove  that  they  aid  us  in  delicate  muscular  discrimi- 
nation. Indeed,  it  may  be  affirmed  that  they  are  insensitive 
to  the  slighter  forms  of  muscular  stimulation. 


OBJECTS    OF   DIGESTION   AS   A    SENSE.  117 

Sensations  of  the  Alimentary  Canal. 

7.  Digestion  offers  all  the  conditions  of  a  sense.  There 
is  an  external  object — the  Food  ;  a  distinct  organ  of  sense — 
the  Alimentary  Canal,  and  its  appendages ;  and  a  set  of 
Feelings,  arising  from  the  contact,  also  distinct  and  specific. 
To  treat  these  feelings  mider  Taste,  is  to  confomid  together 
two  senses  very  different  in  their  character,  although  hap- 
pening to  have  one  common  object  or  stimulant. 

The  objects  of  this  sense  are  the  materials  taken  into  the 
body  as  food  and  drink.  These  materials  are  extremely 
varied,  but  there  is  no  corresponding  variety  in  their  action 
on  the  stomach.  They  can  be  reduced  to  a  few  general 
heads,  according  to  their  composition  ;  it  being  found  possible 
to  assign  a  few  leading  substances  that  comprehend  all  the 
different  sorts  of  material  serviceable  in  nourishing  the  body. 
The  following  is  an  abstract  of  this  classification  : — 

1st.  Water,  and  the  watery  liquids;  including  substances 
conveyed  in  solution,  or  suspension,  in  water. 

'2nd.  Saccharine  substances  derived  from  the  vegfetable 
kingdom.     These  comprehend  sugars,  starch,  gums,  vinegar. 

3rd.  Oily  substances.  These  include  the  various  fats  and 
oils,  as  well  as  alcohol.  Like  the  former  group,  they  are 
composed  of  carbon  and  the  elements  of  water;  but,  in  them, 
the  carbon  is  in  a  much  higher  proportion. 

4th.  Albuminous  substances,  containing  nitrogen :  fibrine, 
gelatine,  albumen,  caseine  (matter  of  cheese),  vegetable 
gluten.  '  All  the  materials  which  make  up  this  group  are 
derived  generally  from  the  animal  kingdom,  with  the 
exception  of  the  last,  which  is  contained  in  great  abundance 
in  wheat ;  similar  if  not  identical  principles  exist  in  other 
vegetables.  Wheat,  indeed,  consists  of  two  substances — 
one  referable  to  the  saccharine  group,  the  other  to  the 
albuminous,  the  former  consisting  of  starch,  the  latter  of 
gluten.' 

Milk  is  found  to  contain  matter  of  all  the  four  classes  : 
water,  sugar,  oily  matters  (butter),  caseine. 


118  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC    LIFE, 

The  three  first  classes  are  incapable  of  nourishing  the 
principal  animal  tissues,  such  as  nerve  and  muscle.  They 
are  fitted  rather  for  supplying  fat,  bile,  and  matters  used  in 
the  production  of  the  carbonic  acid  that  escapes  from  the 
lungs.  Being  supposed  to  be  mainly  destined  for  the  supply 
of  animal  heat,  by  being  combined  with  oxygen,  or  slowly 
burned,  they  were  formerly  termed  calorifacient ;  but  this 
is  now  reckoned  a  too  narrow  view.  Experiments  recently 
made  have  proved  that  their  combustion  is  the  chief  source 
of  muscular  power ;  being  an  example  of  chemical  com- 
bination transmuted  into  mechanical  force,  to  which  a 
parallel  is  found  in  the  steam-engine.  The  same  combustion 
may  also  be  the  source  of  the  nerve  force  ;  the  parallel  case 
being  the  voltaic  circuit,  where  the  electricity  is  evolved 
from  chemical  combination  in  the  cells. 

The  albuminous  bodies  are,  undoubtedly,  the  tissue- 
forming  material ;  having  a  composition  fitted  for  the  purpose. 
But  they  are  not  confined  to  this  function  ;  in  their  final 
transformations  and  decay,  they  may  be  at  last  oxidised  and 
become  the  source  of  heat,  muscular  force,  and  nerve  force, 
like  the  others. 

Certain  substances  of  the  saline,  earthy,  or  mineral  class, 
are  requisite ;  most  of  them  being  found  in  the  usual 
articles  of  food.  Salts  of  soda,  potash,  and  lime,  as  well  as 
iron  and  phosphorus,  are  essential  ingredients. 

The  Stimulants  are  classified  into  spices,  or  condiments ; 
vegetable  alkaloids,  as  tea,  coffee,  cocoa ;  extractives,  as 
creatin  and  creatinin,  occurring  in  the  juice  of  meat;  and  the 
alcoholic  beverages.  For  the  most  part,  these  substances  are 
not  directly  nutritive  ;  they  act  as  stimulants  to  the  nervous 
system,  and  also  retard  the  waste  of  tissue.  The  orgaiiic 
vegetable  acids, — vinegar,  the  acids  of  fruit,  and  lactic  acid, 
— are  in  extensive  use  as  an  ingredient  of  food. 

The  differences  that'  exist  among  the  infinity  of  articles 
used  as  food  are  not,  at  bottom,  so  great  as  they  seem.  If  we 
take  the  different  species  of  grain, — wheat,  barley,  rye,  oats, 
rice,  maize,  millet, —  we  shall  find  that  they  are  all  composed 


ORGANS    OF    DIGESTION.  119 

of  the  same  ultimate  materials,  gluten  and  starch,  though 
not  in  the  same  proportions.  In  like  manner,  the  potato 
is  a  starchy  vegetable,  with  a  very  small  share  of  gluten  : 
hence,  it  is  defective  as  an  exclusive  article  of  diet. 
Another  difference  among  vegetables  relates  to  their  texture, 
as  fitting  them  for  being  acted  on  during  mastication  and 
digestion, — a  circumstance,  however,  that  cooking  can 
modify.  Thus,  the  potato  is  a  much  looser  texture  than 
grain.  A  third  point  of  distinction  among  alimentary  sub- 
stances, is  the  extraneous  essences  that  may  enter  into 
them,  and  affect  the  sense  of  taste,  and  the  general  relish,^ — ■ 
as  in  the  difference  between  mutton  and  beef,  chicken  and 
venison,  brandy  and  rum. 

8.  I  extract  from  Quain's  Anatomij  the  following  general 
view  of  the  Organs  of  Digestion. 

'The  digestive  apparatus  includes  that  portion  of  the  organs 
of  assimilation,  within  which  the  food  is  received  and  partially 
converted  into  chyle,  and  from  which,  after  the  chyle  has  been 
absorbed,  the  residue  or  excrement  is  expelled.  It  consists  of  a 
main  or  primary  part  named  the  alimentary  canal,  and  of  certain 
accessory  organs. 

'  The  alimentary  canal  is  a  long  membranous  tube,  com- 
mencing at  the  mouth  and  terminating  at  the  anus,  composed  of 
certain  tunics  or  coats,  and  lined  by  a  continuous  mucous 
membrane  from  one  end  to  the  other.  Its  average  length  is 
about  thirty  feet,  being  about  five  or  six  times  the  length  of  the 
body.  The  upper  part  of  it  is  placed  beneath  the  base  of  the 
skull,  the  succeeding  portion  is  situated  within  the  thorax,  and 
the  remainder  is  contained  within  the  cavity  of  the  abdomen. 
In  these  several  situations,  its  form,  dimensions,  and  connexions, 
its  structure  and  functions,  are  so  modified  that  certain  natural 
divisions  of  it,  bearing  different  names,  have  been  recognised  by 
anatomists. 

'  It  may  be  considered  as  composed  of  two  parts :  one  situated 
above  the  diaphragm,  and  the  other  below  that  muscular  parti- 
tion, and  therefore  within  the  abdomen.  The  first  division 
consists  of  the  organs  of  mastication,  insalivation,  and  deglutition  ; 
and  comprises  the  month,  the  pharynx,  and  the  oesophagus,  or 


120  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC    LIFE. 

gullet.  The  second  division  consists  of  the  organs  of  digestion, 
properly  so  called,  and  of  those  of  defascation  ;  viz.,  the  stomach, 
the  small  intestine,  and  the  great  intestine. 

'  The  accessory  parts  are  chiefly  glandular  organs,  which  pour 
their  secretion  into  it  at  different  points.  They  consist  of  the 
salivary  glands  (named  the  parotid,  submaxillary,  and  sublingual). 
the  liver,  and  the  pancreas.  Besides  these  large  glandular  organs, 
a  multitude  of  small  glands,  compound,  follicular,  or  tubular,  are 
collected  together  at  certain  points,  or  scattered  over  large  por- 
tions of  the  inner  surface  of  the  alimentary  canal  :  these  are 
described  along  with  the  mucous  membrane  of  each  part.  The 
remaining  accessory  organs  are  the  teeth,  the  jaios,  the  tongue, 
and  the  spleen.' 

9.  The  physiology  of  digestion  operated  by  the  concur- 
rence of  these  various  organs  is  complicated  in  no  ordinary 
degree  ;  the  general  health  and  ethciency  of  the  body  being 
very  largely  dependent  upon  the  proper  v^^orking  of  the  vari- 
ous processes.  Likewise,  the  concurring  sensations  are 
highly  important  as  regards  our  consciousness,  w4iether 
pleasurable  or  painful.  This  department  of  sensibility  may 
be,  to  some  extent,  analysed  and  defined  for  purely  psycholo- 
gical purposes.  The  scheme  of  analysis  turns  upon  the  local 
distinctness  of  the  various  processes,  and  upon  the  circum- 
stance of  their  being  more  or  less  supplied  with  sensitive 
nerves.  The  following  is  a  view  of  the  several  known  stages 
that  would  appear  to  enter  into  our  distinctive  conscious- 
ness more  or  less,  or  maybe  conveniently  cited  as,  in  all  pro- 
bability, embodying  separable  modes  of  digestive  sensibility. 

The  first  stage  is  mastication,  which  serves  the  double 
purpose  of  breaking  down  the  food  and  of  mixing  it  with  saliva. 
The  function  of  the  saliva  is  now  known  to  be,  to  convert  the 
starch  into  grape  sugar,  by  a  process  of  the  nature  of  fer- 
mentation. The  effort  of  mastication  is  purely  voluntary  ; 
but,  when  the  food  gets  upon  the  back  of  the  tongue,  it  is 
passed  into  the  bag  of  the  pharynx  and  propelled  down  the 
gullet  into  the  stomach  by  involuntary  muscular  contractions. 

The  arrival  of  the  food  in  the'  stomach  causes  a  flow  of 


PHYSIOLOGY    OF    DIGESTION.  121 

gastric  juice.  This,  already  commenced  during  mastication 
in  the  mouth,  increases  as  the  food  accumulates  in  the 
stomach  itself;  as,  by  the  churning  and  further  gastric 
movements,  one  part  after  another  of  the  material  is 
brought  into  contact  with  the  mucous  membrane.  The 
composition  of  the  gastric  juice  is  known  to  be  partly 
hydrochloric  acid  and  partly  a  special  ferment  called 
'  pepsin  '. 

The  gross  effect  of  gastric  digestion  is  to  break  up,  and, 
in  part,  to  dissolve,  the  large  lumps  of  masticated  food  into  a 
thick,  greyish,  soup-like  liquid,  called  chyme, — with  which  are 
still  mixed,  in  variable  quantity,  larger  and  smaller  masses  of 
less  changed  food.  '  During  gastric  digestion  the  chyme 
thus  formed  is  from  time  to  time  ejected  through  the  pylorus, 
accompanied  by  even  large  morsels  of  solid,  less  digested 
matter'  (Foster).  It  now  enters  the  duodenum,  into  which 
are  poured  the  bile  and  the  pancreatic  juice.  By  these  fluids 
further  important  changes  are  brought  about,  as  the  mixture 
proceeds  along  the  small  intestine. 

The  effect  of  the  pancreatic  juice,  which  is  poured  into 
the  small  intestine  nea.r  its  commencement,  is  to  co-operate 
with  the  salivary  glands  in  w^orking  upon  the  starchy  con- 
stituents of  the  food,  and  to  contribute  to  the  digestion  of 
the  fat. 

The  functions  of  the  liver  are  more  complex.  The  bile 
is  strongly  antiseptic  ;  mixing  with  the  fatty  matters  of  the 
food,  it  is  indispensable  to  their  being  absorbed  in  the  intes- 
tines. The  liver  is  further  believed  to  form  sugar  out  of 
other  elements  passing  into  it  by  the  circulation.  The  blood 
from  the  intestines,  before  returning  to  the  heart,  passes 
through  the  liver,  and  takes  up  the  sugar  formed  independ- 
ently there. 

In  the  stomach,  and  along  the  intestine,  there  is  a  two- 
fold absorption  proceeding.  The  one  mode  is  by  the  lacteal 
vessels  :  these  have  the  exclusive  power  of  taking  up  the 
fatty  matters,  which  constitute  the  chief  part  of  the  cliylc,  as 
their  contents  are  named.     The  other  mode  is  by  the  capil- 


122  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC   LIFE. 

lary  blood-vessels :  through  these,  the  nutritive  matter  is 
taken  at  once  into  the  circulation,  reaching  the  heart  through 
the  liver. 

By  the  time  the  food  reaches  the  end  of  the  small  intes- 
tine, it  is  largely,  but  not  wholly,  deprived  of  its  nutritious 
constituents.  In  the  large  intestine,  or  colon,  absorption  is 
still  going  on.  '  By  the  abstraction  of  all  the  soluble  consti- 
tuents, and  especially  by  the  withdrawal  of  water,  the  liquid 
chyme  becomes,  as  it  approaches  the  rectum,  converted  into 
the  firm,  solid  faeces.' 

An  essential  feature  of  the  digestive  tube  is  the  distribu- 
tion of  involuntary  muscular  fibres  for  propelling  the  con- 
tents of  the  stomach  slowly  along.  This  is  named  the 
peristaltic  motion.  Upon  its  regular  and  efiicient  working, 
greatly  depends  the  goodness  of  the  digestive  changes. 
Sluggishness,  on  the  one  hand,  and  morbid  activity,  on  the 
other,  are  inimical  to  the  numerous  secreting  and  absorbing 
operations  entering  into  the  final  result. 

Cerebro-Spinal, — that  is  to  say,  sensitive, — nerves  are 
supplied  largely  to  the  stomach,  and,  sparingly,  to  the  re- 
mainder of  the  alimentary  canal ;  being  mixed  with  nerves 
from  the  sympathetic  system,  by  which  the  various  processes 
are  mainly  regulated.  The  vagus  nerve  is  the  medium  of 
our  digestive  sensibility,  and  indicates  to  our  consciousness 
the  character  and  amount  of  the  various  alimentary  changes. 
That  our  sensibility  is  not  confined  to  the  stomach,  although 
most  copious  in  connexion  with  it,  owing  to  its  greater  abun- 
dance of  sensitive  nerves,  is  proved  in  various  ways.  States 
of  acute  pain  are  induced  at  any  point  of  the  stomach  and 
intestine  ;  any  violent  derangements, — such  as  colic  or  mus- 
cular spasm, — affect  our  consciousness  in  an  unmistakable 
form.  It  is  a  natural  inference  that  the  same  nerves  are  sen- 
sitive also  to  the  other  great  changes  attending  the  course  of 
the  food  through  the  whole  length  of  the  alimentary  canal. 
The  immense  variety  and  amount  of  digestive  states  that  we 
are  made  aware  of  could  not  proceed  from  the  nerves  of  the 
stomach  alone,  wliere  the  cycle  of  operations  has  made  only 


FEELINGS    OF    HEALTHY    DIGESTION.  128 

a  commencement.  The  consequences  of  the  introduction  of 
bile  and  pancreatic  juice,  so  essential  in  the  subsequent  stage 
of  the  digestive  process,  cannot  fail  to  be  appreciated  by  our 
direct  consciousness.  When  these  are  of  a  morbid  character, 
they  too  are  productive  of  great  and  manifest  forms  of  pain. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  healthy  and  genial  modes  may  be 
supposed  to  occasion  some  portion  of  the  pleasurable  glow 
obtainable  through  the  digestive  sensibility. 

It  is  also  known  that  stimulation  of  the  vagus  nerve 
brings  about  contractions  in  the  small  intestine. 

10.  And,  now,  with  regard  to  the  Feelings  of  Alimentary 
action.  These  are  mostly  of  the  pleasurable  kind,  when 
the  action  is  healthy  ;  pains  are  the  result  of  disease  and 
disorder. 

Beginning  with  the  sensation  of  taking  food,  we  shall  find 
a  pretty  general  agreement  as  to  its  character.  I  do  not 
speak  of  the  feeling  of  Taste,  but  of  the  sensibility  connected 
more  particularly  with  the  stomach  and  alimentary  canal, 
which  extends  even  to  the  mouth  in  connexion  with  saliva- 
tion, and  is  called  relish.  If  we  include  the  entire  mass  of 
sensation  arising  from  a  healthy  meal,  and  lasting  a  certain 
time  after  the  meal  is  finished,  at  which  stage  the  operation 
of  digestion  in  the  stomach  is  the  sole  cause  of  what  we  feel, 
we  may  safely  pronounce  it  to  be  an  agreeable  state  of  a  high 
order.  It  has  the  characteristic  of  massiveness,  or  quantity  ; 
being  a  rich,  luxuriant,  satisfying  sensation.  Such  is  the 
character  common  to  all  kinds  of  healthy  nourishment  ;  but 
there  is  the  greatest  possible  difference  in  the  qualities  of 
food  as  regards  stomachic  relish  :  from  turtle  to  stale  oat- 
cakes, or  a  piece  of  black  bread,  what  an  interval !  To  the 
richer  kinds  of  food,  belongs  a  feeling  intense  as  well  as 
voluminous.  The  magnitude  of  the  sensation  is  attested  by 
its  ability  to  submerge  a  great  many  irritations,  and  to  make 
itself  for  the  time  the  ruling  element  of  the  consciousness. 
This  power  brings  it  into  comparison  with  such  feelings  as 
healthy  exercise  and  repose,  nervous  elation,  and  the  intoxi- 
cation of  warmth. 


124  SENSATIONS   OF   ORGANIC   LIFE. 

The  energy  of  the  Vohtion  corresponds  to  the  rehsh  and 
to  the  stage  of  the  operation.  At  first,  the  active  stimulus 
is  intense  and  even  furious.  Appetite  is  inflamed  by  partial 
gratification  ;  and,  until  such  time  as  the  stage  of  fulness 
draw^s  near,  the  pleasure  shov^^s  itself  in  supplying  impulse 
to  continue  it.  Eating  is  among  the  most  characteristic 
examples  of  the  general  law  of  feeling-prompted  activity ; 
being  not  only  for  the  suppression  of  pain,  but  also  for  the 
retaining  and  heightening  of  pleasure. 

To  complete  the  delineation  of  this  mode  of  consciousness, 
v^^e  may  notice  the  peculiarity  of  it  as  related  to  the  Intellect. 
Here,  however,  we  have  only  to  remark,  as  in  other  cases, 
that  there  is  comparatively  little  permanence  in  idea,  when 
the  state  of  the  organs  is  such  as  to  forbid  the  reality.  But 
the  reality  is  one  that  never  is  long  absent.  As  a  general 
rule,  it  is  true  of  digestive  and  all  other  organic  sensations, 
that  they  are  exceedingly  powerful  when  present,  and  ex- 
ceedingly little  realised  when  absent.  They  are  thus  unlike 
sights  and  sounds,  loves  and  hatreds,  and  other  states  that 
the  intellect  can  retain  in  the  ideal  form.  To  imagine  with 
effect  the  relish  of  a  feast  when  under  nausea,  passes  the 
power  of  the  most  vigorous  memory. 

The  sensation  connected  with  the  lower  extremity  of  the 
canal  is  chiefly  of  the  nature  of  a  feeling  of  relief  from  pain. 

11.  Another  important  healthy  sensation  of  the  aliinent- 
ary  canal  is  Hunger, — the  state  preparatory  to  the  one  just 
described. 

The  physical  concomitants  of  hunger  are  a  collapsed 
condition  of  the  stomach,  usually  accompanied  with  a  de- 
ficiency of  nutritive  material  in  the  system.  The  sensitive 
nerves  distributed  to  the  mucous  surface  of  the  stomach  are 
first  affected  ;  then  the  nerves  of  the  lower  intestines  ;  and, 
finally,  an  influence  of  the  general  system  adds  to  the  pain 
and  the  feeling  of  depression.  It  is  considered  probable  that 
the  state  of  the  muscular  fibres  of  the  stomach  makes  a  part 
of  the  case  (Weber).  These  are  at  first  loose  and  uncon- 
tracted  ;  but,  at  a  later  stage,  their  characteristic  (peristaltic) 


HUNGER.  125 

movements  are  commenced  upon  the  empty  tube.  The 
cutting  of  the  nervus  vagus  (supplying  the  mucous  surface) 
does  not  entirely  abolish  the  feeling  of  hunger.  The  feeling 
itself  is  of  the  uneas}'  or  painful  class,  with  a  degree  of 
massiveness  and  engrossment  corresponding  to  stomachic 
feelings  in  general. 

The  appetite  for  eating  commences  with  a  pleasant  feel- 
ing, and  consists  of  certain  indefinite  sensations  in  the  region 
of  the  stomach,  accompanied  by  stimulation  of  the  muscles 
of  chewing,  and  by  the  secretion  of  saliva.  If  ungratified, 
this  passes  next  into  an  uneasy  feeling  ;  then  come  on  op- 
pressive gnawing  pains,  which  are  referred  to  the  region  of 
the  stomach ;  these  are  followed  by  sensations  of  a  still 
stronger  kind,  derived  from  a  more  general  action,  under 
which  the  local  feelings  are  submerged. 

Animals  are  driven  in  search  of  food  after  the  nervus 
vagus  is  cut ;  which  would  seem  to  imply  that  the  sense  of 
starvation  in  the  body  generally  is  a  part  of  the  motive  power 
of  hunger.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  contended  that,  when  the 
digestion  is  diseased,  the  appetite  for  food  may  be  entirely 
wanting,  however  much  the  frame  be  suffering  from  want. 
The  influence. of  the  nerves  and  the  nerve  centres  is  shown 
in  the  fact  that  a  desire  of  eating  may  exist  when  the  stomach 
is  full.  In  ordinary  circumstances,  the  state  of  fulness  of 
the  stomach  is  followed  by  the  sensation  of  Satiety. 

It  is  to  be  distinctly  understood  that,  although  the  supply  of 
materials  to  the  blood  is  the  final  end  of  all  the  digestive  pro- 
cesses, yet  the  digestive  pleasures  and  pains,  and  the  accompany- 
ing cravings  or  appetites,  are  regulated,  in  the  first  instance,  by  the 
stomach  itself — its  secreting  surfaces  and  its  nerves.  There  is 
often  a  rivalry  or  inconsistency  between  the  interests  of  the 
stomach  and  the  interest  of  final  nutrition  as  determined  by  the 
state  of  the  other  organs.  Habit,  in  a  great  measure,  determines 
the  recurring  periods  of  hunger :  at  these  periods,  the  craving 
arises  irrespective  of  the  needs  of  the  system.  Moreover,  what 
pleases  the  stomach  is  not  necessarily  the  most  suited  to  the 
general  reparation  of  the  tissue  ;  while,  obversely,  materials  of 


126  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC    LIFE. 

the  highest  nutritive  quality — as  cod-liver  oil,  in  certain  states  of 
the  system — may  be  very  repugnant  to  taste  and  digestion. 

It  is  further  to  be  noted  that  the  long  series  of  digestive  pro- 
cesses whereby  the  food  material  is  prepared  for  assimilation  and 
absorption  occupies  time, — say,  several  hours.  Nevertheless,  an 
instantaneous  stimulus  to  the  general  activities  may  arise  imme- 
diately after  taking  food  ;  implying  that  a  portion  of  the  food 
material  passes  at  once  into  the  circulation,  so  as  to  afTect  the 
nerves  and  muscles  in  advance  of  the  contribution  of  the  general 
mass  of  the  food  (see  Foster's  Physiology,  5th  edition,  p.  1423). 

1'2,  The  feeling  of  Nausea  and  Disgust  is  an  effect  indi- 
cating some  great  disturbance  in  the  usual  course  of  digestive 
operations.  This  state  is  associated  with  the  act  of  vomiting  ; 
an  act  that  may  take  place — '  (1)  From  the  introduction  of  cer- 
tain substances  into  the  stomach,  some  of  which,  as  bile, 
mustard,  common  salt,  not  becoming  absorbed,  must  act 
simply  by  the  impression  they  make  on  the  mucous  mem- 
brane ;  (2)  By  the  introduction  of  emetics,  as  Tartar  emetic, 
into  the  blood,  or  by  the  presence  of  certain  morbid  poisons 
in  the  fluid ;  (3)  By  mental  emotion,  as  that  excited  by  the 
sight  of  a  disgusting  object  ;  (4)  By  irritation  at  the  base  of 
the  brain  '  (Todd  and  Bowman,  ii.  214).  To  these  must 
be  added  sea-sickness.  Inflammation  of  the  brain  in  children 
usually  shows  itself  first  in  violent  vomiting.  The  act  of 
vomiting  is  the  result  of  a  reflex  stimulus,  directed  towards 
the  muscles  that  compress  the  abdomen  in  the  act  of  expira- 
tion of  the  breath.  These  muscles  violently  contracting, 
while  the  exit  of  the  air  from  the  lungs  is  shut  up,  squeeze 
the  contents  of  the  stomach  upwards  towards  the  mouth. 
The  sensation  of  vomiting  is,  in  most  cases,  horrible  in  the 
extreme.  It  proves  by  a  strong  instance  the  power  of 
stomachic  influences  on  the  nervous  system.  The  sensation 
is  one  sui  generis — no  other  feeling  can  at  all  compare  with 
it.  There  are  many  forms  of  unendurable  pain,  but  this  (at 
its  full  height)  has  a  virulence  of  its  own,  great  both  in 
quantity  and  in  intensity.  On  the  maxim  that  the  abuses  of 
the  best  things  are  the  worst,  the  wretchedness  of  stomachic 


DISGUSTS.  127 

perversion  might  be  taken  to  be  a  testimony  of  the  aptitude 
for  pleasure  belonging  to  this  part  of  the  system. 

The  sensations  of  nausea  are  also  accompanied  by  irre- 
gular movements  of  the  muscles  of  the  pharynx.  These  are 
the  seat  of  the  characteristic  feehng  of  nausea.  In  the 
stomach  also,  the  sensation  may  be  connected  with  irregular, 
or  anti-peristaltic,  movements  in  the  muscular  fibres. 

The  feelings  of  nausea  and  disgust,  and  the  objects 
causing  them,  are  expressed  in  our  language  by  a  variety  of 
strong  terms.  The  'disagreeable'  is,  originally,  what  revolts 
the  stomach,  though  extended  in  its  application  to  other 
forms  of  the  unpleasing.  '  Disgust '  is  the  extreme  opposite 
of  relish.  The  fact  that  these  words  are  among  the  strongest 
that  the  language  affords  to  express  dislike  or  aversion, 
proves  how  deep  and  intense  is  the  feeling  that  they 
primarily  refer  to. 

Besides  the  objects  that  produce  disgust  by  actual  contact 
with  the  alimentary  canal,  there  are  substances  whose  appear- 
ance to  the  eye  is  disgusting.  Certain  gases  also  affect  the 
smell  in  the  same  way.  Disgusting  sights  are  mostly  the 
result  of  association  ;  but  some  nauseous  smells  act  from  the 
very  beginning.  The  arrangements  of  human  life  particu- 
larly address  themselves  to  our  protection  against  disgusts  ; 
and,  singularly  enough,  the  chief  things  to  be  avoided  are  the 
products  of  living  bodies  themselves.  This  is  the  foremost 
aim  of  the  operations  of  cleansing  and  the  removal  of  refuse. 
The  influences  that  stimulate  a  healthy  digestion  and  relish 
are  contrasted  with  their  opposites  by  the  term  'fresh,' — 
which  also  applies  to  respiration,  but  which  has  still  more 
emphasis  as  opposed  to  the  causes. of  disgust.  The  power  of 
resisting  nauseating  influences  is  an  indication  of  great 
stomachic  vigour  in  the  right  direction. 

There  are  many  things  entering  into  the  ugly,  or  opposed 
to  the  beautiful  ;  but  nothing  contrasts  with  beauty  so  en- 
tirely, or  annihilates  it  so  effectually,  as  a  disgust. 

13.  The  foregoing  cases  are  intended  to  include  the  most 
prominent  of  our  habitual  and  ordinary  experiences  in  rela- 


128  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC    LIFE. 

tion  to  the  alimentary  processes.  With  regard  to  the  feelings 
arising  from  disease  in  the  various  organs  of  digestion,  these 
are  so  many  forms  and  varieties  of  pain.  If  we  were  to  go 
systematically  through  the  entire  series  of  organs  already  enu- 
merated, we  should  have  to  commence  with  mastication,  and 
describe  the  pains  and  agonies  which  the  teeth  render  familiar 
to  us.  Distemper  of  the  salivary  glands  yields  a  sensibility, 
not  of  the  acute  kind,  but  annoying,  and  difficult  to  bear,  like 
disordered  secretions  in  general.  The  pains  and  disorders  of 
the  early  stages  of  digestion,  that  is,  in  the  stomach,  where 
the  sensitiveness  is  greatest,  are  very  numerous,  and  are 
sometimes  acute,  but  oftener  not  so.  In  proportion  to  the 
genial  influence  of  a  healthy  digestion  upon  the  general  mass 
of  sensibility,  is  the  malign  influence  of  an  unhealthy  diges- 
tive action.  It  is  in  extreme  cases  altogether  overpowering, 
and  renders  futile  almost  every  attempt  to  establish  a  pleasur- 
able tone  by  other  causes.  The  nervous  connexion  between 
the  brain  and  the  stomach,  being  intimate  and  powerful, 
shows  itself  in  many  ways.  Not  only  is  there  a  keen  sensi- 
bility to  stomachic  states,  but  also  a  strong  retu7'ning  influence 
from  the  brain  upon  the  digestive  secretions  in  the  way  of 
supplementing  their  force,  or  aiding  them  by  a  stimulus 
from  without. 

On  acute  stomachic  pains,  it  is  not  necessary  to  spend 
much  discussion.  They  have  their  character  chiefly  from 
the  great  sensibility  of  the  alimentary  surface,  which  often 
makes  a  slight  cause  of  irritation  peculiarly  keen  and  in- 
tolerable. On  the  subject  of  pains  and  distempers  not  acute, 
but  connected  with  want  of  tone  and  vigour  in  the  digestive 
system,  or  with  deranged  mucous  surface,  the  pathologist  and 
physician  have  much  to  describe.  The  stomach  combines 
the  nourishing  and  the  purifying  functions ;  and,  hence, 
operates  doubly  upon  the  healthy  condition  of  the  blood — the 
general  basis  of  bodily  and  mental  vigour.  A  well-known 
form  of  depression  accompanies  deficiency  in  the  excreting 
power  of  the  alimentary  canal  ;  so  much  so,  that  a  forced 
relief  of  the  loaded  organs  produces  a  general  exhilaration, — 


OBJECT    OF   RESPIRATION    AS    A    SENSE.  129 

the  consequence  of  withdrawing  impurity  from  the  blood. 
But  what  chiefly  interests  us  is  to  mark,  as  a  specific  mental 
experience  arising  out  of  many  forms  of  alimentary  derange- 
ment, the  depression  and  ennui  spread  over  the  consciousness, 
at  the  times  when  any  of  these  organs  are  failing  to  perform 
their  part.  This  effect  is  one  that,  if  not  intense  or  acute,  is 
powerful  in  its  amount,  and  extremely  ditiicult  to  combat, 
either  by  other  stimulants  or  by  the  action  of  the  mind 
recalling  or  imagining  situations  of  a  less  gloomy  cast.  It 
either  resembles  or  else  produces  that  physical  depression 
of  the  nervous  substance  to  be  afterwards  considered ;  the 
likeness  holding  remarkably  in  the  leading  features,  as  in  the 
distaste  for  existence  while  the  state  lasts,  and  in  the  extreme 
facility  of  forgetting  it  when  it  is  gone.  In  the  rational 
point  of  view,  hardly  any  sacrifice  is  too  much  to  prevent  the 
frequent  recurrence  of  this  state ;  but  so  little  hold  does  it 
take  as  a  permanent  impression,  that  the  reason  has  very 
little  power  in  the  matter.  Any  feeling  of  general  depression 
is  easily  forgotten,  when  the  animal  spirits  are  restored  ;  the 
evil  then  seems  to  have  neither  a  local  habitation  nor  a 
name. 

Feelings  of  Bespiration. 

14.  '  Respiration  is  that  function  by  which  an  interchange 
of  gases  takes  place  between  the  interior  of  an  organised 
being  and  the  external  medium  ;  and,  in  the  animal  kingdom, 
oxygen  is  the  gas  received,  and  carbonic  acid  the  gas  given 
out.'  The  aeration  of  the  animal  fluids  or  juices  is  an  essen- 
tial of  their  vitality.  If  this  is  put  an  end  to,  death  ensues 
instantaneously  ;  if  insufficiently  performed,  the  vigour  of 
the  animal  is  lowered,  and  a  peculiar  painful  sensation  expe- 
rienced. In  man  and  in  air-breathing  animals,  there  is  a 
wind-apparatus,  the  lungs,  inflated  and  contracted  by  muscles, 
so  as  to  suck  in  and  force  out  the  air  by  turns. 

In  this  action,  we  have  all  the  particulars  necessary  to 
constitute  a  Sense  :  an  external  object — the  air  of  the  atmo- 
sphere,— which  operates  by  physical  contact  upon  the  lining 


130  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC   LIFE. 

membrane  of  the  tubes  and  cells  of  the  lungs  ;  nn  organ  of 
sense ;  and  a  resulting  state  of  feeling,  or  consciousness.  The 
peculiarity  of  the  case  lies  in  its  being  almost  entirely  an 
emotional  sense ;  generating  feeling,  rather  than  yielding 
knowledge,  or  providing  forms  for  the  intellect ;  ranking, 
therefore,  among  the  lower,  and  not  among  the  higher, 
senses. 

As  respects  the  object  of  this  sense,  the  external  air,  it 
need  only  be  remarked,  that  the  air  differs  considerably  in 
its  quality  for  breathing  purposes ;  the  chief  point  of  differ- 
ence being  expressed  by  the  term  '  purity '.  The  purity  is 
affected,  first,  by  the  loss  of  oxygen,  which  happens  when  the 
same  air  is  repeatedly  breathed,  or  otherwise  consumed  ; 
secondly,  by  the  accumulation  of  carbonic  acid,  from  the 
same  circumstance ;  and,  thirdly,  by  the  presence  of  foreign 
gases  and  effluvia  arising  from  animal  life,  vegetation,  or 
other  causes.  Confinement  in  the  surroundings  is  the  chief 
aggravation  of  all  those  impurities.  Of  the  three  evils — the 
loss  of  oxygen,  the  accumulation  of  carbonic  acid,  and  the 
generation  of  effluvia  of  animal  and  other  substances, — the 
second  is  the  least  injurious  ;  for,  although  the  production  of 
a  carbonic  acid  atmosphere,  by  burning  charcoal  in  a  close 
room,  is  fatal  to  life,  yet  the  quantity  usually  occurring  in 
rooms  is  not  found  to  do  any  harm,  if  mixed  with  air  other- 
wise pure.  The  loss  of  oxygen,  and  the  diffusion  of  the 
gases  of  decay,  are  the  main  influences  that  deteriorate  the 
atmosphere. 

Of  the  organ  acted  upon,  the  lungs,  a  minute  description 
is  not  necessary  for  our  present  purpose.  The  structure  is  so 
arranged  by  ramifications  and  doublings  as  to  present  a  very 
extensive  surface  to  the  air  ;  the  surface  consisting  of  a  fine 
membrane,  with  capillary  blood-vessels  thickly  distributed. 
The  exchange  of  gases  takes  place  through  the  double  medium 
of  membrane  and  capillary  tube.  The  muscular  apparatus 
for  sustaining  the  bellows-action  is  the  diaphragm  and  ab- 
dominal muscles,  and  the  muscles  of  the  chest  or  ribs.  The 
integrity  and  vigour  of  these  muscles,  and  of  the  nerve  centres 


FEELINGS    OF   RESPIRATION.  131 

that  sustain  and  time  their  action,  must  be  reckoned  as  a 
condition  of  healthy  respiration. 

The  respiratory  nerve  centres,  which  are  capable  of  acting 
when  all  sensory  channels  are  cut  off,  are  stimulated  from 
the  body  at  large,  but  chiefly  from  those  parts  that,  like  the 
muscles,  are  large  consumers  of  oxygen.  The  portion  of 
the  eighth  pair  of  nerves  named  the  nervus  vagus  (or  pneumo- 
gastric),  is  instrumental  in  keeping  up  the  rhythm  of  the 
lungs,  and  is  also  necessary  to  the  feeling  of  suffocation. 

The  feelings  of  Respiration,  both  pleasurable  and  painful, 
are  well  marked.  They  include  the  gratification  from  pure 
air,  enhanced  by  the  increased  action  due  to  muscular  exer- 
cise ;  the  various  shades  of  oppression  from  overcrowded 
rooms  and  unwholesome  gases  ;  the  distressing  experience 
of  suffocation,  or  want  of  breath ;  and  the  pains  attendant 
on  disease  of  the  lungs. 

15.  The  influence  of  pure  and  stimulating  air  abundantly 
inhaled,  spreads  far  and  wide  over  the  system,  elevating  all 
the  other  functions  by  the  improved  quality  imparted  to  the 
blood.  The  indirect  consequences  do  not  altogether  hide  the 
grateful  sensibility  arising  from  the  lungs  themselves,  and 
referred  by  us  to  the  region  of  the  chest, — a  sensation  not 
very  acute  or  prominent,  but  possessing  that  choice  and  well- 
know^n  quality  expressed  by  the  term  '  freshness'  or  '  refresh- 
ing '.  This  quality  manifestly  implies  a  contrast ;  for,  it  is 
felt  only  when  we  pass  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  degree  of 
aeration.  We  may  experience  it  at  any  time,  by  holding  in 
the  breath  for  a  little  and  then  allowing  it  full  play.  No 
technical  nomenclature  can  increase  the  conception  possessed 
by  every  one  of  this  remarkable  sensibihty  ;  but,  for  the  sake 
of  comparison  with  the  other  parts  of  our  mental  constitution, 
an  attempt  at  verbal  description  is  necessary.  As  just  re- 
marked, the  sensation  turns  upon  the  contrast  of  the  greater 
activity  of  the  lungs  with  an  immediately  preceding  activity 
of  an  inferior  degree.  It  may  be  affirmed  that  no  feeling 
arises  from  the  lungs,  after  a  given  pace  has  been  estab- 
lished for  a  length  of  time  ;  but  any  acceleration  of  the  rate  of 


132  SENSATIONS    OF    OEGANIC   LIFE. 

exchange  of  the  two  gases  (by  no  means  depending  altogether 
on  the  rate  of  breathing)  does  for  a  time  yield  that  delightful 
freshening  sensation,  which  tells  so  immediately  on  the 
mental  system  as  a  contribution  to  our  enjoyment,  and  as  a 
stimulus  to  our  activity  and  to  our  desire  for  rural  recreation 
and  bodily  exercise. 

The  remark  already  made  regarding  Digestiou  applies,  al- 
though in  a  smaller  degree,  to  Eespiration.  The  immediate  cause 
of  the  sensation,  whether  pleasurable  or  painful,  is  due  to  the 
influence  exerted  on  the  brain  by  the  nerves  concerned  in  the  act 
itself  ;  in  other  words,  it  does  not  depend  on  the  ultimate  effect 
upon  our  physical  well-being,  or  on  the  changes  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  blood.  This  final  interest  would,  undoubtedly,  suffer  by 
a  considerable  prolongation  of  the  stoppage  of  the  breathing,  but 
would  not  begin  to  suffer  seriously  at  the  moment  when  the  sus- 
pended action  of  the  lungs  has  become  intolerable  as  a  sensation. 
Doubtless,  in  no  very  long  time,  the  intermission  of  the  supply  of 
oxygen,  and  the  accumulation  of  carbonic  acid,  would  render  the 
blood  unfit  for  the  sustenance  of  the  other  vital  organs. 

16.  The  feelings  of  insufficient  and  impure  air  are  mani- 
fested in  the  forms  of  faintness,  sense  of  exhaustion  and 
weariness,  and  are,  obviously,  due,  not  to  the  lung-sense  alone, 
but  to  the  lowered  condition  of  the  body  at  large.  The 
characteristic  sensibility  of  the  lungs  is  shown  in  the  state 
termed  suffocatioyi,  arising  from  the  want  of  air,  as  in  drowning, 
in  an  atmosphere  deteriorated  by  such  poisonous  gases  as 
chlorine  or  sulphurous  acid,  in  attacks  of  asthma,  and  in 
voluntarily  holding  in  the  breath.  '  After  holding  the  breath 
for  fifteen  or  twenty  seconds  during  ordinary  respiration,  or 
forty  seconds  after  a  deep  respiration,  there  arises  an  insup- 
portable sensation  over  the  whole  chest,  concentrated  under 
the  sternum,  and  no  effort  can  maintain  the  interruption  of 
the  respiratory  acts.  This  urgent  sensation  of  want  of 
breath,  when  carried  to  its  full  extent  by  any  mechanical 
impediment  to  the  aeration  of  the  blood,  is  one  of  the  most 
painful  and  oppressive  kind,  and  is  referable  to  the  pulmonary 


FEELINGS    OF    CIRCULATION    AND    NUTRITION.  188 

plexuses  (of  nerves)  distributed  to  the  bronchia,  and  perhaps 
on  the  walls  of  the  lobular  passages  and  cells.  The  impres- 
sion made  on  these  peripheral  nerves  by  the  absence  of  oxygen, 
and  the  undue  presence  of  carbonic  acid  in  the  air  in  contact 
with  them,  is  propagated  to  the  spinal  cord  and  medulla 
oblongata  by  the  sympathetic  and  vagus,  and  there  excites 
those  combined  actions  of  the  muscles  of  inspiration  which 
lead  to  the  renewal  of  the  air '  (Todd  and  Bowman,  ii. 
403).  The  sensation  is  of  the  class  '  racking  pains,'  and  may 
be,  in  part,  muscular. 

Circulation  and  Nutrition. 

17.  When  we  endeavour  to  detach  this  function  from  the 
closely  allied  processes  of  Digestion  and  Respiration,  we  find, 
to  begin  wdth,  a  purely  mechanical  function, — namely,  the 
pumping  action  of  the  heart,  by  which  the  blood  is  made  to 
perform  its  rounds  through  all  the  organs  of  the  body.  The 
heart  itself  may  be  independently  powerful,  or  the  reverse ; 
and  the  consequences  must  be  distinct  and  specific.  Probably, 
however,  the  resulting  consciousness  is  not  equally  distinct. 
While  decided  failure  of  the  heart's  action  may  be  shown  in 
severe  local  pains,  slight  fluctuations  in  its  average  efficiency 
give  no  conscious  indication. 

The  final  results  of  digestion  and  respiration  are  to  de- 
posit in  the  blood  the  solid,  liquid,  and  gaseous  material  that 
constitute  its  nutritive  qualities.  Deficiency  in  any  impor- 
tant constituent,  say  water  or  air,  leads  to  decided  and  painful 
sensations.  The  mischief  that  is  caused  properly  appertains 
to  the  various  tissues  of  the  body,  which  are  thereby  de- 
prived of  their  proper  nutriment  ;  but,  in  the  absence  of  any 
distribution  of  influence  of  such  a  pervasive  character,  the 
actual  sensibility  is  in  a  great  measure  localised.  Take  the 
case  of  the  deficiency  of  water.  The  powerful  sensibility  of 
thirst  is  apt  to  be  localised  in  the  mouth  and  palate.  Be- 
yond this,  it  arises  from  the  body  at  large  in  the  shape  of  vague, 
common  sensibility,  determined  by  rousing  this  very  feeble 


134  SENSATIONS    OF    OEGANIC    LIFE. 

consciousness  into  serious  amount  by  the  extent  of  the  disor- 
ganising influence.  In  hke  manner,  the  state  of  hunger, 
which  has  its  acute  manifestation  locaHsed  in  the  organs  of 
digestion,  is  augmented  by  a  more  general  wave  of  sensibi- 
lity, when  the  want  of  food  leads  to  inanition  or  starvation 
in  the  body  at  large. 

It  is  from  such  considerations  as  these  that  we  seem 
entitled  to  regard  the  circulation  of  the  blood  as  an  organic 
function,  apart  from  the  functions  of  those  other  organs 
that  are  in  such  intimate  relations  with  it,  either  giving  or 
receiving  mutual  aid. 

Heat  and  Cold. 

18.  Changes  of  temperature  usually  affect  us  through  the 
skin ;  and  hence  sensations  of  warmth  and  coolness  are 
treated  as  a  leading  branch  of  our  cutaneous  sensibility,  as 
will  be  seen  under  the  sense  of  Touch.  Still,  the  importance 
and  the  range  of  those  feelings  cannot  be  sufficiently  ex- 
pressed while  confined  to  our  tactile  sensibility.  They  take 
a  very  high  rank  in  the  department  of  the  organic  feelings, 
not  much  inferior  to  the  classes  already  dw^elt  upon.  A\^iile 
mingling  with  the  other  contributing  elements  of  general 
sensibility,  the}^  nevertheless,  possess  a  unique  characteristic 
in  the  conscious  tone,  and  can  be,  in  most  cases,  discerned 
apart  from  the  other  constituents  of  the  moment. 

Inasmuch  as  cold  (not  in  excess)  increases  the  activity 
of  the  muscles,  the  nerves,  the  respiration,  and  the  digestion, 
the  animal  powers  attain  their  maximum  in  cold  climates, 
and  in  the  winter  season,  allowance  being  made  for  constitu- 
tions unfitted  to  endure  extreme  depression  of  temperature. 

Sudden  changes  of  temperature  derange  the  functions. 
A  sudden  increase  will  cause  a  slight  feeling  of  suffocation, 
beating  of  the  heart,  and  increased  pulsation  and  respiration. 
A  sudden  chill  makes  breathing  difficult,  quick,  and  irregular, 
and  increases  the  pulsations.  The  nerves  lose  their  excita- 
bility both  under  a  great  depression  and  under  a  great 
increase  of  temperature. 


SENSATIONS    OF    HEAT    AND    COLD.  185 

Cold,  or  chillness,  is  a  feeling  altogether  unique,  whether 
as  a  localised  cutaneous  sensibility  or  as  an  influence  affect- 
ing at  once  all  parts  of  the  body  that  share  in  the  suscepti- 
bility. When,  from  being  in  a  medium  or  normal  tempera- 
ture, we  are  suddenly  subjected  to  general  cooling,  say  a  cold 
atmosphere,  there  is  a  massive  pain,  serving  to  depress  the 
entire  tone  of  the  moment,  while  the  speciality  of  the  feeling 
is  such  as  to  discriminate  it  in  a  marked  way  from  other 
modes  of  general  depression.  No  doubt,  a  great  and  sudden 
chill  deranges  more  or  less  several  of  the  vital  organs,  and 
these,  through  their  sensitive  nerves,  will  make  their  altered 
character  known  to  the  consciousness  through  the  brain.  Yet, 
such  effects  are  not  the  sources  of  the  feeling  proper  to  an 
alteration  of  temperature,  while  they  scarcely  disguise  its 
familiar  characteristic. 

The  natural  heat  of  the  blood  is  about  98°.  Any  con- 
tact below  this  point  feels  cold  ;  any  contact  above  it  feels 
warm.  There  is  a  certain  surplus  heat  generated  in  the 
human  system,  which  enables  us  to  live  in  a  medium  below 
98',  without  feeling  cold ;  and,  if  this  heat  be  husbanded  by 
clothing,  a  very  great  depression  of  external  temperature 
may  be  endured.  A  room  is  warm  at  60".  The  outer  air 
can  be  endured  at  freezing  and  far  below,  either  by  means 
of  exercise,  which  evolves  heat,  or  of  clothing,  which  re- 
tains it. 

An  acute  cold  acts  like  a  cut  or  a  bruise,  injuring  the  part 
affected,  and  causing  painful  sensations  of  the  class  arising 
from  violent  local  injuries.  The  temperature  of  freezing 
mercury  w^ould  destroy  the  skin,  like  boiling  water  or  a 
sharp  cut. 

The  proper  sensation  of  Cold  arises  from  a  general  cool- 
ing of  the  body,  or  any  considerable  part  of  it,  below  blood 
heat.  The  term  '  chillness  '  expresses  the  state  of  feeling, 
which  is  of  the  painful  class.  The  degree  is  not  acute,  but 
massive.  In  the  worst  forms,  it  is  wretchedness  in  the  ex- 
treme. To  a  person  suffering  from  excessive  chillness,  some 
powerful  stimulant,  such  as  the  taking  of  food,  alcohol,  or 


136  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC    LIFE. 

tobacco,  is  necessary  to  restore  equanimity.  The  volition 
and  the  memory  are  proportionally  impressed  by  the  pains  of 
cold,  and  they  take  a  high  rank  in  the  reckonings  of  fore- 
thought and  prudence. 

It  is  a  singular  fact  in  our  constitution,  that  an  agency 
calculated  to  quicken  the  vitality  of  so  many  leading  organs 
— muscles,  nerves,  lungs,  stomach — should  affect  us  so  power- 
fully, by  the  depression  of  one  organ.  The  fact  is  highly 
illustrative  of  the  importance  of  the  skin, — whether  from  its 
organic  functions,  or  from  its  sensibility.  Probably,  both 
circumstances  enter  into  the  case.  It  may  be  that  the 
quickened  vitality  of  all  the  other  leading  organs  is  unavail- 
ing for  a  perfectly  healthy  tone  while  the  skin  is  depressed. 
But  it  must  be  also  true,  that  we  are  in  a  peculiar  degree 
sensitive  to  changes  in  the  condition  of  the  skin, — owing,  no 
doubt,  to  its  great  supply  of  nerves. 

19.  The  consequences  of  Heat  are,  in  nearly  every  parti- 
cular, the  opposite  of  those  now  stated.  Acute  or  intense 
heats  agree  with  intense  colds  in  being  simply  destructive 
and  painful.  Within  the  point  of  injury  to  the  tissues,  heat 
is  a  pleasurable  sensation.  The  pleasure  of  heat,  like  the 
pain  of  cold,  is  voluminous  or  massive.  There  are  cases, 
however,  distinguished  by  intensity  rather  than  by  quantity  ; 
indeed,  this  distinction  of  quantity  and  intensity,  used  as  a 
part  of  the  description  of  feelings,  has  its  perfect  type  in  the 
case  of  temperature,  there  being  a  physical  reality  correspond- 
ing to  the  mental  facts.  Sometimes,  we  have  great  intensity 
and  small  quantity, — as  in  the  scorching  rays  of  a  fire,  or  a  cup 
of  hot  tea  :  at  other  times,  we  have  large  quantity  with  low 
intensity, — as  in  a  hot  bath,  a  warm  room,  a  warm  bed.  The 
hot  bath  is  the  extreme  instance.  By  no  other  contrivance 
can  such  a  mass  of  heat  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the  human 
system  ;  consequently,  this  presents  the  sensation  of  warmth 
in  its  most  luxurious  form.  It  is  the  intoxication  of  animal 
heat.  We  are,  unavoidably,  led  to  assume  that  this  warmth 
must  act  powerfully  on  the  sensitive  nerves ;  for,  it  is  hardly 
to  be  supposed  that  the  organic  processes  are  so   greatly 


SENSIBILITY    IN    THE    NERVE    SUBSTANCE.  187 

furthered  by  the  sustained  temperature  as  to  exalt  the  plea- 
surable consciousness  in  this  remarkable  degree.  Indeed,  we 
may  derange  the  system  by  excessive  heat,  without  producing 
the  painful  feeling  arising  from  cold. 

In  the  case  of  morbid  activity  of  the  nervous  system, 
warmth  is  a  soothing  influence,  either  by  its  physical  effects, 
or  by  the  nature  of  the  sensation,  or  from  both  combined. 

The  feelings  of  Respiration,  and  those  of  Heat  and  of 
Cold,  illustrate  in  a  marked  manner  the  fundamental  doctrine 
of  Eelativity,  or  of  change  as  a  condition  of  consciousness. 
There  is  no  feeling  of  respiration,  nnless  by  increase  or 
diminution  of  the  action  of  the  lungs  ;  and,  if  we  lived  in  an 
even  temperature,  heat  and  cold  would  be  alike  unknown. 
The  induction  of  the  principles  of  Relativity  as  regards  these 
states  is  complete. 

Sensations  of  Nerve. 

20.  The  nerves  and  nerve  centres,  apart  from  their  action 
as  the  organs  or  medium  of  all  human  sensibility,  have  a 
class  of  feelings  arising  from  the  organic  condition  of  their 
own  tissue.  Wounds  and  diseases  of  the  nerves  are  pro- 
ductive of  intense  pains  ;  witness  tic-douloureux  and  the 
neuralgic  affections  of  the  brain  and  spinal  cord.  Nervous 
exhaustion  and  fatigue  produce  a  well-known  sensibility, 
very  distressing  in  its  extreme  forms  ;  and  repose,  refresh- 
ment, and  stimulants  engender  an  opposite  condition,  through 
a  change  wrought  on  the  substance  of  the  nerve  tissue. 

The  nervous  pains  arising  from  cuts,  injuries,  and  disease 
of  the  substance,  are  characterised  by  a  most  vehement 
intensity.  When  a  muscle  is  spasmodically  contracted,  the 
influence  passes  from  the  muscular  fibres  to  the  nerve,  and 
the  affection  of  the  nervous  fibres  may  then  be  supposed  to 
be  secondary  ;  but,  in  neuralgic  affections,  the  influence 
comes  at  first  hand,  and  not  by  propagation  from  some 
other  tissue. 

We  have  here,  therefore,  a  manifest  complication  to  deal 


138  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC   LIFE. 

with.  The  nervous  substance  is  necessary  to  all  sensibility  : 
strictly  speaking,  every  form  of  pleasure  and  of  pain  is 
physically  embodied  in  a  certain  condition  of  the  brain  and 
nerves.  But  we  have  to  note,  under  the  present  head,  the 
effects  that  arise  from  operating  upon  the  tissue  directly,  and 
not  through  the  organs  of  sense,  or  by  means  of  the  emotions. 
This  direct  action  is  exemplified  in  injuries  and  in  diseases 
of  the  nerves,  in  the  use  of  stimulating  drugs,  and  in  the 
agencies  whereby  the  cerebral  substance  is  nourished  or 
impaired. 

The  action  and  reaction  of  the  different  organs  connected  with 
our  physical  well-being  tends  to  confuse  the  sources  of  our  sensi- 
bility. Nevertheless,  important  ends  are  served  by  endeavour- 
ing to  assign  to  each  its  part  in  the  complex  results  ;  and,  although 
this  is  often  difficult,  it  is  not  impossible.  We  know,  for  example, 
when  a  sight  or  a  sound  that  experience  shows  to  be  pleasurable 
in  its  tendency  may,  on  some  special  occasion,  utterly  fail  to  pro- 
duce the  customary  effect.  We  readily  refer  the  circumstance  to 
the  organic  condition  of  the  nervous  substance  for  the  time  being. 
When  a  physician  finds  a  patient  in  a  mood  of  great  mental  de- 
pression, his  cross-examination  usually  enables  him  to  assign 
the  special  organ  that  is  at  fault.  It  may  be  the  digestion,  the 
respiration,  the  circulation,  or  the  nervous  substance  itself,  which 
is  no  doubt  dependent  upon  these  other  leading  functions,  but 
may,  from  some  peculiar  cause,  be  lowered  in  tone,  notwithstanding 
the  sufficiency  of  the  other  organs  in  their  proper  spheres. 

21.  Nervous  Fatigue,  or  Exhaustion. — This  state  is  con- 
sequent on  too  great  expenditure  in  some  one  or  other  of  the 
numerous  forms  of  nervous  activity,  on  intense  pains,  on 
excesses  of  pleasure,  on  long-continued  activity  of  either 
body  or  mind,  on  reaction  from  stimulants.  It  may,  also, 
arise  from  want  of  proper  nourishment  of  the  nerve  substance ; 
and  this,  again,  may  be  either  a  want  of  food  material  or  an 
insufficient  preparation  by  the  auxiliary  organs  of  nourish- 
ment. 

The  mental  state  most  usually  corresponding  to  such  a 
condition  is  simple  depression  of  tone,  or  massive  pain  of  the 


HEALTHY    CONDITION    OF   THE    NERVES.  139 

nature  of  general  sensibility.  Although  very  readily  passing 
into  acute  forms  of  nervous  pain,  as  simple  headache,  it  may 
yet  be  free  from  all  such  local  and  special  peculiarities  ;  its 
sole  means  of  distinction  being  degree  or  amount.  Here, 
then,  may  be  an  extensive  scale  of  gradation,  which  has  a 
momentous  import  as  affecting  the  entire  tone  or  sense  of 
existence.  Our  consciousness  makes  us  aware  both  of  the 
state  itself  and  of  its  amount ;  and,  notwithstanding  the 
absence  of  specific  characters,  there  are  ways  and  means  of 
stating  and  fixing  this  amount  over  and  above  the  feeling  of 
the  moment  (see  p.  75). 

Healthy  and  Fresh    Condition   of  the  Nerve   Tissue. 

22.  This  is,  in  every  respect,  the  opposite  or  obverse  of 
the  foregoing, — whether  we  look  to  the  physical  and  mental 
sources  or  to  the  resulting  consciousness.  General  exhilara- 
tion of  mental  tone,  which  is  connected  with  high  or  effective 
condition  of  the  Digestion,  Respiration,  or  Circulation  (for 
which,  of  course,  the  nervous  substance  must  be  the  support 
in  the  end),  may  be,  at  times,  distinctly  referable  to  the 
good  condition  of  the  nerves  and  brain  in  their  own  proper 
capacity.  This  fact  can  be  established  beyond  dispute  by 
the  case  when  these  other  organs  are  even  below  their 
normal  condition,  while  yet  the  nerve  substance  responds 
to  joyous  elation.  The  decisive  example  is,  of  course,  the 
operation  of  stimulating  drugs.  Less  prominent,  but  still 
suggestive,  are  the  numerous  occasions  when  we  are  aware 
of  having  undergone  nervous  renovation,  undisguised  by  an 
improved  condition  of  the  other  functions. 

The  influence  of  stimulating  drugs  is  usually  a  mixture  of 
general  (pleasurable)  sensibility  with  distinctive  modes  that 
give  a  certain  character  to  different  kinds  of  stimulants.  At- 
tempts have  been  made  to  specify  and  delineate  the  psychical 
results  of  the  principal  stimulants  in  habitual  use.  The  cir- 
cumstances that  give  a  variety  of  aspect  to  these  are  such  as 
the  following.  For  example,  it  is  well  known  that  a  stimu- 
lating substance  may  be  more  or  less  purified  from  gross  or 


140  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC    LIFE. 

irritating  accompaniraents,  such  accompaniments  being  of 
the  nature  of  so  much  painful  agency  detracting  from  the 
general  effect.  More  commonly,  however,  the  result  is  to 
bring  about  a  speedier  exhaustion  of  the  nervous  system, 
and  so  terminate  the  period  of  exhilaration  due  to  the  stimu- 
lating substance ;  persistence  then  inducing  either  nervous 
depression  or  acute  nervous  pains. 

Another  important  type  of  stimulation  may  be  specified 
as  general  sensibility, of  a  soothing,  satisfying,  and  quieting 
character  ;  the  contrast  to  which  is  a  stimulation  that  is 
exciting,  in  the  sense  of  demanding  some  other  applications 
in  order  to  give  perfect  satisfaction, — as,  for  example,  the 
gratification  of  some  favourite  study  or  some  personal  interest 
beyond  the  moment.  In  such  a  case,  the  stimulation  is 
manifestly  inadequate  as  pleasure,  while  setting  nervous 
currents  in  motion,  as  pure  excitement  ;  thus  determining 
a  state  of  wakefulness  that  needs  occupation  and  desires 
some  further  consequences  in  the  way  of  pleasurable  awaken- 
ing. To  evoke  a  perfectly  pure  condition  of  pleasure,  in  con- 
siderable amount,  and  of  a  kind  to  allay  all  further  cravings 
for  the  time  being,  needs  a  rare  conjunction  of  circumstances, 
especially  if  some  continuance  is  counted  on.  In  nearly 
every  mode  of  arousing  pleasurable  sensibility,  there  is  some 
mixture  or  dross,  to  which  corresponds  a  separate  demand 
in  order  to  get  rid  of  it. 

The  modes  of  stimulation  by  substances  of  the  nature  of 
drugs  to  the  nerves  are  distinguished,  intellectually,  by  the 
discriminative  operation  of  such  drugs  on  the  senses  affected. 
From  this  cause,  associations  spring  up  between  the  purely 
pleasurable  stimulus  and  sensations  that  have  an  intellectual 
persistence,  whereby  the  more  emotional  effects  may  be 
lodged  in  the  memory  and  reproduced  as  recollections. 
This  remark  will  find  additional  illustration  under  the  Five 
Senses.  Otherwise,  we  may  say  of  nervous  stimulants,  as 
of  pleasurable  and  painful  sensibility  generally,  that  the 
intellectual  persistence  of  the  psychical  conditions  is  of 
the  lowest  order. 


SLEEP   AND    DROWSINESS.  141 

The  State  of  Droiosiness. 

23.  A  very  distinct  mode  of  sensibility,  which  may  be 
properly  included  under  the  present  head,  although  adverted 
to  also  in  a  different  connexion,  is  the  state  named  Drowsiness. 
Allusion  has  been  made  to  this  state  in  connexion  with  slow 
movements  (p.  88),  and  also  with  the  agreeable  sensation  of 
muscular  rest  from  ordinary  fatigue  (p.  11-5).  Notwithstand- 
ing these  alliances,  the  drow^sy  condition  possesses  a  standing 
of  its  own,  and  enters,  to  a  considerable  degree,  into  the 
stream  of  organic  pleasure.  We  are  so  far  fortunate  in  not 
passing  instantaneously  from  an  active  condition  of  body  into 
the  full  unconsciousness  of  sleep.  Both  preceding  and  fol- 
lowing the  perfect  state  so  denominated,  there  is  an  interval 
greater  or  less,  of  agreeable,  massive  sensibility,  which  in 
its  own  character  has  to  be  reckoned  among  the  gratifying 
moments  of  our  existence.  Although  developed  in  all  its 
characteristic  fulness  in  proximity  to  actual  sleep,  it  recurs 
in  slighter  degrees  in  the  cycle  of  our  waking  moments, 
and  plays  a  part  in  the  control  of  our  active  states,  lending 
itself  to  the  suspension  of  activity,  sometimes  as  a  whole- 
some corrective,  and,  at  other  times,  as  pandering  to  indo- 
lence. 

It  is  a  curious  and  not  unimportant  question  whether,  as 
suggested,  it  be  a  phase  of  the  Sensibility  of  Muscle,  or 
whether  it  is  related  more  intimately  to  the  nerve  substance 
itself.  Psychically,  we  can  solve  this  doubt  only  by  our 
consciousness  of  its  agreements  with  recognised  nervous 
modes  of  sensibility.  It  is,  notoriously,  a  reaction  and  a 
remedy  in  the  case  of  nervous  strain,  quite  as  much  as  in 
the  strain  of  muscle.  AVhen  the  nerves  are  rmi  down  by  a 
course  of  functional  exercise  (if  not  excessive),  their  repose 
easily  passes  into  the  drowsy  condition,  and  it  may  not  be 
incorrect  to  call  it  more  specifically  one  of  the  modes  of 
nerve  giving  sensibility.  The  evidences  for  such  an  assump- 
tion are  furnished  by  what  is  known  of  the  procuring  causes, 
as  well  as  of  the  obstacles,  in  the  inducing  of  sleep.     Besides 


142  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGANIC    LIFE. 

the  fact  of  periodicity,  it  is  known  what  are  the  favouring 
circumstances  of  sleep  and  the  reverse. 

A  state  the  opposite  of  pleasurable  is  that  when  drowsi- 
ness has  supervened,  and  yet  when  the  natural  tendency  to 
perfect  sleep  is  arrested  or  checked.  This  is  a  massive  form 
of  painful  irritation,  whether  located  in  the  muscles  or  in 
the  neryes,  and  shows  the  characteristic  phase  of  the  sleepy 
condition,  as  we  shall  see  again,  when  we  reach  the  treat- 
ment of  the  Appetites. 

Feverislmess. 

24.  What  is  termed  feverishness  is  the  extreme  and  exag- 
gerated form  of  so-called  excitement.  Indeed,  the  proper 
meaning  of  the  term  excitement,  apart  from  either  pleasure 
or  pain,  is  best  put  in  evidence  by  the  consideration  of  this 
state. 

Nervousness  is  a  familiar  designation  for  too  great  excita- 
bility of  the  nerves,  under  which  they  fail  to  recover  their 
proper  tone,  or  to  subside  into  quiescence  and  repose,  when 
the  necessity  for  their  exertion  has  passed  away.  What  is 
termed  insomnia  means  the  reluctance  of  the  nervous  tissue 
to  assume  the  phase  of  somnolence  at  the  periods  when  sleep 
properly  falls  due.  In  such  a  condition,  thought  is  more  or 
less  awake  ;  being  no  longer  under  voluntary  control. 

The  painful  character  of  the  state  is,  in  part,  connected 
with  the  circumstance  that  the  forced  thinking  is  maintained, 
while  the  ideas  themselves  may  be  painful,  or,  even  if  not 
painful  intrinsically,  are  made  so  in  consequence  of  the  jaded 
condition  of  the  nerves,  under  which  pleasure  is  no  longer 
possible.  It  is  the  exaggerated  persistence  of  the  condition 
of  nervous  weariness  after  too  much  pleasure  with  which  we 
are  familiar  in  our  proj)er  w^aking  hours. 

There  is  a  form  of  feverishness  that  is  unnaturally  plea- 
surable,— like  the  action  of  stimulants  in  an  intense  degree. 
Such  a  state  is  on  the  way  to  delirium,  during  which  the 
healthy  conditions  of  the  nerves  are  perverted  or  rendered 
abnormal. 


THE    ELECTRIC    SHOCK.  143 

Feelings  of  Electrical  States. 

25.  We  shall  touch  upon  only  one  other  class  of  feelings 
before  passing  from  this  subject, — the  feelings  arising  from 
Electric  and  Magnetic  agencies.  It  is  very  difficult  to  say 
anything  precise  on  this  class  of  sensations,  but  their 
interest  is  such  that  we  ought  not  to  pass  them  unnoticed. 

The  electric  shock  from  a  Leyden  jar  is,  perhaps,  the 
simplest  of  all  the  electric  effects ;  yet,  we  are  not  able  to 
describe  the  change  that  it  produces  on  the  tissues  affected 
by  it.  AVhen  very  severe,  it  destroys  life.  The  stroke  of 
lightning  is  proved  to  be  of  the  same  nature.  The  peculiar 
feeling  of  this  kind  of  electricity  has  its  main  character  from 
the  suddenness  of  the  action  ;  the  painful  effect  is  described 
as  a  shock  or  a  blow.  When  pretty  smart,  it  leaves  an 
unpleasant  impression  behind,  such  as  to  render  us  averse 
to  a  repetition  of  the  experiment.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
of  the  disorganising  tendency  of  the  influence  when  at  all 
severe.  The  Voltaic  shock  is  very  different,  in  consequence 
of  the  altered  character  of  the  discharge ;  an  incessant  current 
being  substituted  for  an  instantaneous  shock.  Still,  the 
painful  character  remains.  The  first  contact  causes  a  slight 
blow  like  the  other ;  then  succeeds  a  feeling  of  heat,  and  a 
creeping  sensation  of  the  flesh  as  if  it  were  unnaturally 
wrenched  or  torn,  which  after  a  time  becomes  intolerable. 
The  peculiar  distorting  sensation  is  carried  to  the  utmost  in 
Faraday's  Magnetic- Electric  Machine,  where  the  current,  instead 
of  continuing  of  one  character,  is  changed  from  negative  to 
positive,  and  from  positive  to  negative,  a  great  many  times 
every  second.  The  quality  of  the  pain  from  this  machine 
may  be  described  as  agonising.  Yet,  feebler  discharges  of  this 
kind  are  employed  as  an  electric  stimulus  in  certain  diseases. 
There  seems  to  be  a  power  in  electricity  to  revive  the  action 
of  torpid  nerves  ;  and,  after  experience  both  of  common  and 
of  voltaic  electricity  for  the  purpose,  Faraday's  invention  has 
been  adopted  in  preference  to  either. 

It  is  now  a  common  application  of  electricity  to  try  its  effects 


144  SENSATIONS    OF    ORGAXIC    LIFE. 

upon  the  senses  one  and  all.  In  the  more  mechanical  sense  of 
touch,  it  simulates  some  of  the  usual  sensations  of  the  skin.  If 
applied  to  taste,  a  mixed  gustatory  sensation  is  said  to  be  produced ; 
in  the  back  of  the  tongue,  which  is  the  region  of  bitter  taste, 
bitterness  is  produced,  and,  at  the  tip  of  the  tongue,  sweetness. 

26.  The  electricity  of  the  Atmosphere  is  believed  to  be 
the  cause  of  quite  other  sensations  than  the  shock  of  the 
thunderbolt.  In  some  states,  this  influence  is  supposed  to 
kindle  a  genial  glow  in  the  human  frame,  while,  in  other 
states,  the  effect  is  painful  and  depressing.  Many  persons 
complain  of  a  disturbed  irritated  condition  of  body  on  the 
eve  of  a  thunderstorm.  The  highly  electrified  state  of  the 
atmosphere  in  dry  cold  is  generally  considered  as  bracing ; 
while  part  of  the  depression  of  moist  sultry  weather  is 
attributed  to  the  absence  of  electricity.  Much,  however, 
remains  to  be  proved  in  regard  to  these  popular  beliefs. 
The  time  of  greatest  effect  on  the  human  sensibility  from 
this  class  of  influences  is  the  eve  of  an  earthquake  or  volcanic 
eruption  ;  in  which  case  it  is  known  that  the  earth's  magnet- 
ism suffers  violent  disturbances.  On  these  occasions,  feelings 
of  depression  amounting  to  nausea  and  sickness  overtake 
both  men  and  animals,  as  if  some  great  stimulus  of  a  sup- 
porting kind  were  suddenly  withdrawn.  * 

Gonchidinq  Observations . 

27.  "We  have  now  described  the  principal  states  of  feel- 
ing that  enter  into  the  general  conditions  called  physical 
Comfort  and  Discomfort.  Of  all  the  elements  that  deter- 
mine our  flowing  stream  of  pleasurable  and  painful  conscious- 
ness, the  foremost,  the  ever-present,  the  largest  in  amount 
is  made  up  of  the  series  of  elements  now  detailed.  Muscular 
feelings  in  their  wide  compass,  sensations  of  digestion,  of 
respiration,  of  circulation,  and  nervous  states  referable  to 
organic  conditions  of  the  nerve  substance,  fill  up  every  day 

*  This  is  admirably  brought  out  in  Bulwer  Lytton's  Last  Days  of 
Pompeii. 


DAILY    STREAM    OP   ORGANIC    FEELINGS.  145 

with  a  volume  of  sensibility,  of  fluctuating  and  varying 
degree,  not  only  vast  in  itself,  but  largely  determining  the 
precise  efficacy  and  tone  of  the  other  numerous  sources  of 
our  hedonic  condition.  We  can  easily  figure  to  ourselves  a 
few  various  types  of  our  successive  waking  states,  pleasurable, 
painful,  or  neutral,  in  which  these  different  streams  of  sen- 
sibility occupy  positions.  It  may  be  owing  to  a  speciality 
of  temperament,  that  some  one  of  these  preponderates. 
Thus  our  muscular  expenditure  in  its  numerous  forms — in 
action,  in  fatigue,  in  repose  with  recuperation — might  take 
the  lead  ;  the  undulations  of  these  different  conditions  reveal- 
ing themselves  to  consciousness  as  the  day  went  on.  Or 
again,  the  Digestive  phases  might  assert  their  predominance 
— a  not  uncommon  type, — easily  traceable  and  assignable  by 
our  self-observation.  Respiration,  however  important  as  an 
interest,  would  not  bulk  so  largely  in  ordinary  circumstances. 
As  a  matter  of  course,  the  conditions  of  the  Nerve  Substance 
would  assert  themselves,  although  less  easy  to  separate 
from  the  influence  of  the  other  great  interests.  In  circum- 
stances that  kept  the  influence  of  the  outer  world  at  a  low 
figure,  while  not  stirring  up  powerful  emotions  or  stimulat- 
ing currents  of  thought,  the  organic  stream  would  be  the 
prominent  factor  in  the  continuous  mental  tone.  Submerged 
or  overpowered  at  intervals  by  the  other  great  interests  of 
our  being,  it  would  have  its  periods  of  abeyance  and  disap- 
pearance from  consciousness.  For  one  thing,  the  objective 
attitude  of  pursuit  would  effectually  curb  and  restrain  its  pre- 
dominance ;  while,  as  objectivity  itself  is  necessarily  tran- 
sient, there  would  still  be  times  of  entire  recovery  of  organic 
consciousness.  The  same  remark  would  be  applicable  to  the 
wide-ranging  influence  of  the  five  senses,  whose  emotional 
sensibility  co-operates  largely  with  their  properly  intellectual 
agency.  So  also  with  the  wakenings  of  ideas  or  thought,— 
as  Memory,  Imagination,  and  Ratiocination, — which  both 
evoke  subjectivity  and  make  up  the  object  states  that  place 
feeling  in  abeyance.  Moreover,  the  great  emotions  standing 
outside  of  the  strict  organic  circle  have  occasions  of  assert- 

10 


146  SENSE    OF    TASTE. 

ing  themselves  in  such  force  as  to  throw  everything  else  into 
the  background.  All  such  influences  would  be  formidable 
rivals,  but  still  only  rivals,  to  the  great  streams  of  sensibility 
now  passed  in  review  ;  the  rivalry  being  conducted  on  equal 
terms,  if  not  equivalent  in  amount. 

It  must  further  be  noted  that  the  organic  sensibility  is 
the  one  mode  that  is  always  with  us,  even  when  overlaid  or 
suppressed  by  these  other  ingredients  of  consciousness.  It 
begins  our  waking  day,  and  holds  us  until  other  elements 
have  had  time  to  enter  the  field  ;  being  ready  to  reassert 
itself  as  these  other  elements  retire  or  lose  their  efficacy. 
What  is  still  more  notable,  they  constitute  the  ground  tone 
of  our  menttil  being  ;  in  which  capacity  they  exercise  a  power 
of  admitting  or  refusing,  or  welcoming,  or  discouraging  the 
operating  influences  on  the  stream  of  pleasure  or  pain. 
If  the  new  claimant  be  adverse  to  the  power  in  possession, 
it  has  to  maintain  a  fight  until  it  succeeds  by  the  right  of 
the  stronger  ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  a  concurring  or  harmonising 
influence,  it  is  accepted  with  alacrity,  and  augmented  in 
efficacy  to  produce  its  proper  results.  This  is  a  power  that, 
from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  distinguishes  the  strong 
organic  manifestations  of  such  organs  as  have  been  enumer- 
ated ;  whence  the  common  observation  as  to  the  preference 
to  be  given  to  the  strictly  corporeal  side  of  our  being  in  all 
our  calculations  of  future  weal  or  woe. 


.**/ 


SENSE  OF  TASTE. 


/  This  is  a  peculiar  sense  attached  to  the  entrance  of  the 
alimentary  canal,  as  an  additional  help  in  discriminating 
what  is  proper  to  be  taken  as  food,  and  an  additional  source 
of  enjoyment  in  connexion  with  the  act  of  eating. 

1.  The  substances  used  as  food  are  more  completely  dis- 
tinguished by  the  taste  than  by  the  digestion.  The  tastes  of 
bodies  are  almost  as  widely  different  as  is  their  chemical 
composition  ;  but,  in  order  to  have  taste,  a  substance  must 
be  either  liquid  or  soluble  in  the  mouth. 

The  bodies  acting  on  the  sense  of  Taste  are  innumerable. 


SAPID    SUBSTANCES.  147 

They  are  found  in  the  mineral,  vegetable,  and  animal  king- 
doms ;  and  many  of  them  may  be  discriminated  by  means  of 
this  property. 

Of  mineral  bodies,  water  and  the  elements  of  atmospheric 
air  are  remarkable  for  having  no  taste.  But  most  other 
liquids  and  gases,  and  a  very  great  proportion  of  solid  sub- 
stances, if  capable  of  being  dissolved  by  the  saliva,  have  a 
distinct  action  on  the  palate.  All  acids,  all  alkalies,  and 
nearly  all  soluble  salts  are  sapid. 

It  is  remarked  that,  in  salts,  the  taste  is  determined  more 
by  the  base  than  by  the  acid.  Thus,  salts  of  iron  have  in 
general  the  inky  taste ;  salts  of  magnesia  partake,  more  or 
less,  of  the  well-known  character  of  Epsom  salts.  There  is, 
also,  something  of  a  common  character  in  the  salts  of  silver, 
of  soda,  of  potash,  of  ammonia. 

It  is  a  curious  fact,  that  the  chemical  combination  M-  0•^ 
or  two  atoms  of  a  metal  with  three  of  oxygen  (termed  sesqui- 
oxides),  causes  sweetness.  Alumina  is  an  illustration;  for 
alum  is  known  to  be  sweet  as  well  as  astringent.  The 
oxide  of  chromium  is  still  sweeter.  Glucina  is  the  sweetest 
of  all,  and  has  its  name  from  this  quality. 

The  salt  of  silver,  termed  hypo-sulphite,  and  its  com- 
binations with  hypo-sulphites  of  the  alkalies,  are  among  the 
sweetest  bodies  known. 

The  salts  of  lime  are  bitter. 

The  organic  alkalies  are  all  intensely  bitter ;  quinine, 
morphine,  strychnine,  are  instances.  Strychnine  when 
diluted  with  water,  to  the  degree  of  one  in  a  million,  has 
still  an  appreciable  taste. 

There  is  a  certain  class  of  vegetable  compounds — neutral 
bodies,  which  are  at  present  characterised  as  the  bitter  and 
extractive  principles  of  plants.  I  quote  a  few  examples  from 
the  list  given  in  Gregory's  Orgajiic  Chemistry ,  p.  457. 

Gentianine,  from  Gentiana  liitea,  forms  yellow  needles, 
very  bitter.  Ahsinthine,  from  Artemisia  ahsintheum,  or 
wormwood,  is  a  semi-crystalline  mass,  very  bitter,  soluble  in 
alcohol.     Tanacetine,  from  tanacetum  viilgare,  is  very  similar 


148  SENSE    OF    TASTE. 

to  it.  Syringine  is  the  bitter  principle  of  the  lilac,  syringa 
vulgaris.  Colocynthine,  the  active  principle  of  colocynth,  is 
amorphous,  intensely  bitter  and  purgative.  Quassine  is  a 
yellow,  crystalline,  and  very  bitter  substance,  from  the  wood 
of  quassia  amara.  Lupuline  is  the  bitter  principle  of  hops. 
Liminine,  or  Limine,  is  a  bitter,  crystalline  matter,  found  in 
the  seeds  of  oranges,  lemons,  etc. 

AYith  regard  to  vegetable  and  animal  substances  in 
general,  Gmelin  remarks :  '  Some  organic  compounds,  as 
gum,  starch,  woody  fibre,  white  of  egg,  etc.,  have  no  taste  ; 
others  have  a  sour  taste  (most  acids)  ;  or  a  rough  taste 
(tannin) ;  or  sweet  (sugar,  glycerine,  glycocol)  ;  or  bitter 
(bitter  principles,  narcotic  substances,  and  many  acrid  sub- 
stances, also  many  resins) ;  or  acrid  (acrid  oils  and  camphors, 
acrid  resins,  acrid  alkaloids) ;  or  fiery  (alcoholic  liquids, 
volatile  oils,  camphors)'  {Chemistry,  vol.  vii.  p.  66). 

Not  only  are  the  different  classes  of  vegetable  and  animal 
products  distinguished  by  their  taste,  as  apples  from  apricots, 
wine  from  cider,  flesh  from  fat,  but  in  every  such  class  there 
are  many  distinguishable  varieties.  The  class  of  wines, 
based  on  the  common  ingredient,  alcohol,  spreads  out  into 
innumerable  kinds  fi'om  the  presence  of  sapid  substances  in 
quantity  so  small  as  to  elude  the  search  of  the  chemist.  It 
is  shown  by  this  and  by  many  other  facts,  that  an  extremely 
minute  portion  of  a  sapid  substance  may  make  itself  acutely 
felt  to  the  taste.  The  bitter  element  of  soot,  for  example,  can 
be  distinguished  in  cookery  to  a  very  high  degree  of  dilution. 

Acids  and  bitters  are  said  to  be  the  most  readily  detected  of 
all  sapid  substances  ;  then  saline,  and,  lastly,  saccharine.  It  has 
been  found  that  one  part  of  sulphuric  acid  in  10,000  of  water,  and 
one  of  sulphate  of  quinine  in  33,000  of  water,  can  be  detected, 
when  the  solution  is  carefully  compared  with  pure  water.  Sugar 
cannot  be  tasted  when  there  is  less  than  one  in  80  or  90  of  water  ; 
and,  of  common  salt,  one  part  is  necessary  to  200  of  water 
(Marshall's  Physiology,  i.  481). 

2.  The  organ  of  Taste  is  the  tongue  ;  and  the  seat  of  sen- 
sibility is  the  mucous  membrane  covering  its  surface. 


THE    TONGUE.  149 

'  The  upper  surface  of  the  tongue  is  covered  all  over  with 
numerous  projections,  or  eminences,  named  j^apiUcB.  They 
are  found  also  upon  the  tip  and  free  borders,  where  however 
they  gradually  become  smaller,  and  disappear  towards  its 
under  surface.'  These  papillge  are  distinguished  into  three 
orders,  varying  both  in  size  and  in  form. 

'  The  large  papillse,  eight  to  fifteen  in  number,  are  found 
on  the  back  part  of  the  tongue,  arranged  in  two  rows,  which 
run  obliquely  backwards  and  inwards,  and  meet  towards  the 
foramen  caecum,  like  the  arms  of  the  letter  V.'  '  Tlie  middle- 
sized  papillae,  more  numerous  than  the  last,  are  little  rounded 
eminences  scattered  over  the  middle  and  fore  part  of  the 
dorsum  of  the  tongue  ;  but  they  are  found  in  greater  numbers 
and  closer  together,  near  and  upon  the  apex.'  '  The  smallest 
papillae  are  the  most  numerous  of  all.  They  are  minute, 
conical,  tapering,  or  cylindrical  processes,  which  are  densely 
packed  over  the  greater  part  of  the  dorsum  of  the  tongue, 
towards  the  base  of  which  they  graduall}'  disappear.  They 
are  arranged  in  lines,  which  correspond  at  first  with  the 
oblique  direction  of  the  two  ridges  of  the  large  papillae,  but 
gradually  become  transverse  towards  the  tip  of  the  tongue.' 

'  These  different  kinds  of  papillae  are  highly  vascular  and 
sensitive  prolongations  of  the  mucous  membrane  of  the 
tongue.  When  injected,  they  seem  to  consist  almost  entirely 
of  capillary  vessels  ;  the  large  papillae,  containing  many  vas- 
cular loops,  whilst  the  smallest  papillae  are  penetrated  by 
only  a  single  loop.  Nerves  proceed  in  abundance  to  those 
parts  of  the  tongue  which  are  covered  with  papillae,  into 
which  the  nerve  tubes  penetrate.'  '  The  papillae  are  un- 
doubtedly the  parts  chiefly  concerned  in  the  special  sense  of 
taste;  but  they  also  possess,  in  a  very  acute  degree,  common 
tactile  sensibility'  (Quain). 

The  nerves  supphed  to  the  tongue  are  the  glosso-pharyngeal 
on  the  back  part,  and  t\\-igs  of  the  fifth  pair  on  the  fore  part. 
The  former  must  be  considered  as,  in  all  probability,  the  nerve  of 
taste  proper.  The  fifth  pair,  being  a  nerve  of  touch,  can  confer 
that  high  tactile  sensibility  distinguishing  the  tip  of  the  tongue  ; 


150  SENSE    OF    TASTE. 

but  there  are  no  facts  decisively  showing  any  portion  of  this  nerve 
to  be  the  medium  of  pure  taste.  It  is  true  that  some  so-called 
tastes,  as  the  sour  or  acid,  can  be  discerned  by  the  tip  ;  but  these 
are  properly  of  the  nature  of  pungent  or  fiery  stimulation,  capable 
of  acting  on  nerves  of  touch.  A  bitter  taste,  which  appeals  to 
the  strict  gustatory  sensibility,  is  felt  principally  in  the  back  part 
of  the  tongue.  Fiery,  coohng  and  astringent  tastes  may  arise 
through  the  lips  and  the  gums,  showing  that  they  are  merely 
effects  on  our  common  or  tactile  sensibility.  Mustard  acts  on 
any  tactile  surface  with  variations  of  degree  merely.  It  has  not 
been  possible  to  excite  a  pure  gustatory  sensation  by  irritating 
the  fifth  pair  of  nerves. 

Notwithstanding  the  apparent  simplicity  and  consistency  of 
referring  the  purely  gustatory  sensations  to  the  glosso-pharyngeal 
nerve,  and  the  sensations  that  are  more  nearly  allied  to  tactile 
pungency  to  the  nerves  of  the  fifth  pair,  the  preciseness  of  the 
allocation  does  not  seem  to  be  fully  borne  out  by  physiology. 
According  to  Professor  Michael  Foster  {Physioloijy,  p.  1398),  the 
nerve  fibres  of  the  fifth  nerve  take  part  with  the  others  in  giving 
birth  to  the  proper  gustatory  sensations.  This  must  be  so,  if  it 
be  the  case,  as  affirmed,  that,  while  bitter  tastes  are  located  in 
the  back  part  of  the  tongue,  sweetness  is  felt  at  the  tip,  or  in  the 
localities  supplied  chiefly  from  the  fifth  pair  and  giving  birth  to 
acid,  alkaline,  saline  and  astringent  tastes. 

'  We  conclude  generally,'  say  Messrs.  Todd  and  Bowman, 
'  with  regard  to  the  tongue,  that  the  whole  dorsal,  or  upper  sur- 
face, possesses  taste,  but  especially  the  circumferential  parts — viz., 
the  base,  sides  and  apex.  These  latter  regions  are  most  favour- 
ably situated  for  testing  the  sapid  qualities  of  the  food;  while 
they  are  much  less  exposed  than  the  central  part  to  the  pressure 
and  friction  occasioned  by  the  muscles  of  the  tongue  during 
mastication.  The  central  region,  as  a  whole,  is  more  strongly 
protected  by  its  dense  epithelium,  and  is  rougher,  to  aid  in  the 
connninution  and  dispersion  of  the  food.'  But,  in  addition  to 
the  tongue,  '  the  soft  palate  and  its  arches,  with  the  surface  of 
the  tonsils,  appear  to  be  endowed  with  taste  in  various  degrees 
in  different  individuals  '  (i.  443). 

3.  The  increasing  sensibility  of  the  tongue,  from  tip  to 
])ack,  serves  as  an  inducement  to  move  the  food  gradually 


THREEFOLD    SENSIBILITY   OF    THE    TONGUE.  151 

onward  in  the  direction  of  the  pharynx,  in  order  to  be  finally 
swallowed.  The  same  sensibility,  actinoj  according  to  the 
general  law  of  feeling-guided  action,  or  volition,  keeps  up 
the  mastication,  whereby  the  sapid  action  of  the  food  is 
increased  by  solution  and  comminution  of  parts.  Thus  it  is 
that  mastication  is  purely  a  voluntary  act,  while  deglutition 
or  swallowing  is  purely  reflex  or  involuntary. 

Among  the  conditions  of  taste,  in  addition  to  solubility, 
it  is  noticed  that  '  taste,  like  touch,  is  much  influenced  by 
the  extent  of  surface  acted  on  ;  and  is  also  heightened  by 
the  motion  and  moderate  pressure  of  the  substance  on  the 
gustatory  membrane'.  In  order  to  taste,  also,  the  tongue 
must  not  be  in  a  dry  or  a  parched  condition.  '  The  impres- 
sion of  cold  air  deadens  the  sense  of  taste.'  * 

4.  The  precise  mode  of  action  whereby  the  nerves  of  the 
tongue  are  stimulated  has  not  as  yet  been  explained.  Taste 
may  be  produced  by  mechanical  irritation  of  the  surface,  as 
by  a  smart  tap  with  the  fingers  on  the  tip  of  the  tongue,  and 
by  galvanism.  A  stream  of  cold  air  directed  upon  the  tongue 
gives  a  cool  saline  taste,  like  saltpetre.  If  we  look  at  the 
substances  that  cause  taste  proper,  it  appears  probable  that 
their  cheinical  constitution  is  the  determining  circumstance  ; 
whence  it  would  seem  that  the  action  is  a  chemical  one.  A 
certain  secretion  from  the  blood-vessels  that  line  the  papillae 

*  Another  conditiou  of  taste,  brought  to  light  by  the  researches  of  Graham 
on  '  Dialysis,'  is,  that  the  substance  should  belong  to  the  crystalloid  class  of 
bodies,  and  not  to  the  colloid  class.  The  colloids  are  represented  by  starch, 
the  gums,  caramel,  tannin,  albumen,  gelatine,  vegetable  and  animal  extrac- 
tive matters.  Now,  it  is  a  lav?  that  these  colloids  do  not  penetrate  one  another, 
except  with  slowness  and  difficulty :  whereas  a  crystalloid  body,  like  sugar  or 
salt,  penetrates  a  colloid  very  readily.  Animal  membranes  belong  to  the 
colloid  class,  and,  accordingly,  while  they  are  freely  permeated  by  crystalloid 
substances,  they  resist  the  passage  of  starch,  gum,  albumen,  gelatine,  etc. 
This  would  be  a  sufficient  reason  for  the  absence  of  taste  in  these  bodies. 
Graham  remarks  :  '  While  soluble  crystalloids  are  always  higlily  sapid,  soluble 
colloids  are  singularly  insipid.  It  may  be  questioned  whether  a  colloid,  when 
asted,  ever  reaches  the  sentient  extremities  of  the  nerves  of  the  palate,  as  the 
latter  are  probably  protected  by  a  colloidal  membrane,  impermeable  to  soluble 
substances  of  the  same  physical  constitution.' 


152  SENSE    OF    TASTE. 

of  the  tongue  combines  with  the  dissolved  food,  and  the  act 
of  combination  constitutes  the  stimulus  of  the  nerve  fibres. 
We  know  that  a  chemical  action  on  any  surface  or  tissue 
will  suffice  to  stimulate  a  nerve  and  produce  sensation  ;  and 
it  is  difficult  to  assign  any  other  mode  of  stimulus  either  in 
taste  or  in  smell. 

5.  The  external  objects  of  the  sense,  and  the  structure  of 
the  organ  having  thus  been  considered,  it  remains  for  us  to  de- 
scribe the  mental  phenomena, — that  is,  the  Sensations  them- 
selves.    From  what  has  been  already  said,  the  reader  will 
gather,  if  he  has  not  otherwise  remarked  it,  that  the  tongue 
is  the  seat  of  a  twofold  sensibility — taste  and  touch.     I  go 
still  farther,  and  ascribe  to  it  a  threefold  sensibility, — viz., 
touch,  taste  properly  and  strictly  so-called,  and  relish,  or  a 
participation  in  the  alimentary  sensations.     The  reasons  are 
the  following: — First,  there  is  an  obvious  continuity  of  struc- 
ture in  the  tongue  and  the  aUmentary  canal, — a  common 
character  of  surface  as  regards  mucous  membrane,  glands, 
and  papillae, — which  would  imply  some  community  of  action 
and  feehng,  in  the  midst  of  diversity.     '  We  may  here  allude 
to  a  certain  gradation  that  is  apparent  from  the  papilla3  of 
touch,  through  those  of  taste,  to  the  absorbing  villi  of  the 
small  intestines.     Touch  shades  into  taste,  and  at  a  lower 
point    sensibility   is    lost'    (Todd    and    Bowman,    i.    441). 
Secondly,   the  tongue,  besides  its  power  of  discriminating 
niceties  of  taste  that  have  very  little  reference  to  digestibility, 
can  inform  us  at  once  whether  a  substance  will  agree  or  dis- 
agree with  the  stomach  ;  and  this  it  can  do  only  by  being,  as 
it  were,  apart  of  the  stomach,  affected,  Hke  it,  by  wholesome 
or  unwholesome  contacts.     Thirdly,  the  peculiarity  we  call 
relish  is  not  the  same  as  a  mere  taste.    For  the  type  of  taste, 
I  may  take  such  substances  as  common  salt,  quinine,  soot, 
Epsom  salts.    For  relishes,  I  would  select  butter  and  animal 
flesh ;  the  savoury  in  cookery  being  made  up  much  more  of 
relishes  than  of  tastes.    The  condition  of  the  stomach  governs 
the  one,  but  not  the  other.     After  an  attack  of  sea-sickness, 
a  person  is  still  in  a  condition  to  discriminate  sour,  bitter, 


RELISHES.  158 

alkaline,  or  acrid,  when  the  choicest  food  excites  no  relish  in 
the  mouth.  Fresh,  disgusting,  nauseous,  are  terms  applying 
to  the  stomachic  sensibility  and  to  that  portion  of  the  tongue 
in  sympathy  with  the  stomach,  and  not  to  tastes  as  I  under- 
stand them.  With  this  explanation,  I  shall  now  proceed  to 
examine  in  detail  the  sensations  of  the  tongue. 

6.  Deferring  for  the  present  the  consideration  of  the 
purely  tactile  sensibility,  shared  by  the  tongue  in  common 
with  the  skin  and  the  inner  surface  of  the  mouth,  we  shall 
have  to  classify  and  describe  the  several  kinds  of  sensations 
coming  under  both  Taste  and  Relish.  On  the  general  plan 
of  taking  the  least  intellectual  sensations  first,  we  should 
commence  with  the  relishes  and  disgusts  of  taste,  which 
constitute  its  relation  with  the  alimentary  sensations  already 
treated  of.  But  these  feelings  need  not  be  again  gone  into, 
in  the  detail ;  all  that  appears  necessary  is  to  quote  a  few 
instances,  with  the  view  of  illustrating  still  further  the 
distinctions  we  have  drawn,  between  the  alimentary  sensa- 
tions of  the  stomach  and  those  of  the  mouth,  and  between 
both  and  the  proper  sensations  of  taste. 

7.  The  classification  will  therefore  commence  (I.)  with 
Belishes.  These  are  the  agreeable  feelings  arising  from  the 
stimulus  of  food  on  the  organs  of  mastication  and  deglutition. 
They  are  intense  in  degree.  The  substances  that  produce  them 
in  greatest  amount  are  reckoned  savoury  by  pre-eminence. 
Animal  food  has  the  highest  power  of  exciting  a  vigorous 
relish,  or  that  keen  sensation  so  powerful  as  a  stimulus  to 
mastication  and  the  taking  of  food,  rendering  the  individual 
voracious  for  the  time  being.  A  health}'  digestion  and  the 
state  of  hunger  are  the  necessary  conditions  of  a  strong  relish, 
whether  in  the  stomach  or  in  the  mouth;  from  which  fact,  as 
already  said,  we  can  discern  the  difi^erence  there  is  between  a 
mere  taste  and  a  relish.  Butter  and  oils  and  fatty  substances 
are  relishes, — used  for  that  purpose  along  with  the  more  in- 
sipid kinds  of  food,  such  as  bread.  Sugar  is  both  a  taste  and 
a  relish.  Inasmuch  as  it  is  one  of  the  necessaries  of  animal 
life — which  is  proved  by  the  function  of  the  saliva  in  pro- 


154  SENSE    OF    TASTE. 

duciijo  it  from  starchy  substances, — there  is  a  direct  craving- 
for  it  throughout  the  system  ;  and  everything  craved  for  in 
this  way  is  hkely  to  produce  a  far  deeper  impression  than  a 
mere  sensation  of  taste. 

The  rehsh  in  the  mouth  is  much  more  intense  or  acute 
than  the  feehng  in  the  stomach  ;  although  this  last  may  be 
more  influential  upon  the  general  tone  of  the  system,  by  its 
amount.  That  the  two  interests  are  not  altogether  identical 
is  shown  by  the  circumstance  that  many  tongue-relishes 
accompany  difficult  digestion.  But  I  am  not  aware  of  any 
case  where  what  passes  in  the  mouth  is  found  nauseous  to 
the  digestion  ;  so  far  the  two  senses  would  seem  to  be  in 
accord. 

8.  Relishes  imply  their  opposite,  Disgusts.  This  sensation 
IS  inspired  by  certain  substances  as  part  of  their  nature.  At 
particular  times,  it  may  arise  from  any  contact  whatever, — the 
alimentary  surface  being  in  a  state  of  distemper.  Oily  sub- 
stances, when  cold  and  solid,  are  relishes  ;  but,  when  hot  and 
liquid,  readily  disagree  with  the  palate.  Repletion  renders 
any  kind  of  food  distasteful,  and  some  kinds  absolutely 
nauseous.  In  every  point  of  view,  this  feeling  is  as  much 
dependent  on  the  condition  of  the  alimentary  canal  as  on 
the  material  tasted. 

The  different  degrees  of  relish  and  nausea  exhaust  all  that 
part  of  taste  in  sympathy  with  digestion  ;  what  follows,  next 
in  order,  belongs  (U.)  to  tlie  distinctive  sensibility  of  the 
tongue. 

9.  Siveet  tastes.  At  the  head  of  these,  we  must  place  the 
sugary  taste,  as  being  the  most  prevalent  of  all  forms  of 
sweetness.  The  sweetness  of  every  kind  of  fruit,  of  bread,, 
of  milk,  of  alcoholic  liquors,  and  of  confectionery  in  general, 
is  known  to  arise  from  sugar.  Besides  giving  relish,  it  acts 
strongly  upon  the  sense  of  taste  proper ;  but  no  pleasure  of 
mere  taste  can  be  compared  in  amount  and  influence  to  an 
agreeable  alimentary  feeling.  We  can  lay  it  down  as  a  rule, 
that  the  pleasures  of  taste  proper  have,  as  a  whole,  a  less  in- 
fluential action  than  the  other  class ;  and  this  must  serve  as  a 


SWEET   AND    BITTER   TASTES.  155 

defining  circumstance  for  every  individual  of  them.  The 
feeling  of  a  sweet  taste  is  acute,  but  does  not  inspire  the 
energy  of  volition  that  follows  up  a  savoury  morsel.  When 
digestion  is  satisfied,  there  remains  the  enjojanent  of  sweets  ; 
and  when  the  taste  for  these  becomes  cloyed  by  repetition,  it 
is  by  an  independent  effect  on  the  gustatory  nerves.* 

But  the  great  distinction  of  this  feeling,  and  of  all  other 
feelings  of  taste  proper,  relates  to  the  intellect,  or  to  the 
power  of  discrimination  belonging  to  this  organ ;  whereby  an 
indefinite  number  of  substances  can  produce  impressions 
recognised  by  us  as  totally  different  from  each  other  in 
character, — which  impressions  of  difference  can  remain  or  be 
recalled,  after  the  original  is  gone,  to  compare  with  new  cases 
that  may  arise,  and  to  give  that  sense  of  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment whereon  all  our  knowledge  of  the  world  is  based.  In  the 
case  of  sweetness,  for  example,  not  only  can  we  be  affected  with 
the  pleasurable  feeling  or  emotion  belonging  to  it,  but  we  can 
be  distinctively  affected  by  a  great  many  substances  possessing 
the  quality  :  we  can  identify  some,  and  feel  a  want  of  identity 
in  others ;  and  we  can  so  far  retain  the  impression  of  a  taste 
of  yesterday  as  to  compare  it  with  a  taste  of  to-day.  This 
feature  distinguishes  the  feehngs  of  the  mouth  from  organic 
feelings  whose  more  usual  form  is  general  sensibility  ;  it 
distinguishes,  in  some  degree,  tastes  from  relishes,  although 
these  last  are  also  discriminated  to  a  considerable  extent  ; 
and  it  is  the  point  of  superiority  which  sight,  hearing,  and 
touch,  have,  to  a  still  greater  degree,  over  organic  sensations. 

10.  Bitter  tastes.  These  are  exemplified  by  quinine, 
gentian,  or  bitter  aloes.  This,  and  not  sourness,  is  the 
proper  contrast  of  sweet.  As  sweetness  is  the  pleasure 
proper  to  taste,  so  bitterness  is  the  peculiar  or  distinctive 
form  of  pain  inflicted  through  this  sense.  Without  having 
the  bulk  and  influence  of  the  massive  forms  of  pain,  this 
sensation  is  highly  intense  in  its  own  limited  region,  ex- 

*  For  an  analysis  of  tastes  and  relishes  in  relation  to  digestion,  see  the 
account  of  a  '  Corporation  dinner '  in  Dr.  Lauder  Bruuton's  Disorders  of 
Digestion. 


156  SENSE    OF    TASTE. 

pressing  itself  by  wryness  and  contortion  of  the  features. 
The  sweet  and  the  bitter  represent  the  two  characteristic 
modes  of  acting  on  the  pure  gustatory  nerves.  They  are 
distinct  from  rehsh  on  the  one  hand — which  involves  sym- 
pathies with  the  stomach — and  from  the  modes  of  tactile 
sensibility  on  the  other. 

11.  The  classes  that  remain  involve  (III.),  in  a  greater  or 
a  less  degree,  the  nerves  of  touch. 

Saline  tastes.  Common  salt  may  be  taken  as  an  example 
of  this  class.  Mineral  waters,  containing  salts  of  soda,  mag- 
nesia, and  lime,  have  a  saline  taste.  This  taste  is  rarely  an 
agreeable  one,  in  many  cases  it  is  very  disagreeable  ;  but  we 
should  be  disposed  to  describe  the  feeling,  in  most  instances, 
as  singular  and  characteristic  rather  than  as  either  pleasing 
or  the  reverse.  Of  it,  as  of  all  that  follow,  the  character  is 
best  expressed  by  saying,  that  it  can  be  discriminated  from 
every  other. 

The  repulsive  taste  of  Epsom  salts  would  be  termed  a 
compound  of  the  saline  and  the  bitter. 

It2.  The  alkaline  taste  is  usually  more  energetic  than  the 
saline,  as  might  be  expected,  seeing  that  a  salt  is  a  neutralised 
alkali.  But  if  the  remark  above  made  be  correct, — namely, 
that  salts  owe  their  taste  principally  to  their  base, — the  alkali 
ought  to  have  a  considerable  share  of  the  saline  in  taste. 
Most  mineral  alkalies,  and  some  earths  and  oxides  of  metals, 
have  characteristic  tastes,  rarely  agreeable,  and  often  not 
markedly  disagreeable. 

13.  The  sou?'  or  acid  taste  is  much  more  uniform  in  its 
nature  than  either  the  saline  or  the  alkaline  ;  which  we  may 
fairly  ascribe  to  the  influence  of  the  acid  quality  itself,  irre- 
spective of  the  constituent  elements.  This  is  a  sharp,  pene- 
trating, pungent  action,  having,  when  very  powerful,  the  pain, 
more  of  a  burn,  than  of  a  repulsive  taste.  In  diluted  forms 
it  is  an  agreeable  pungent  stimulus  to  the  mouth  :  hence  the 
liking  for  vinegar  (the  sour  of  cookery,  as  sugar  is  the  sweet), 
and  for  acid  fruits  and  vegetables.  A  galvanic  current  in 
the  mouth  causes  sourness. 


ASTRINGENT   AND   FIERY   TASTES.  157 

Professor  Foster  proposed  to  designate  a  class  of  tastes  by 
the  title  '  metallic '.  As  no  metal  in  purity  can  act  on  the  mouth, 
in  consequence  of  want  of  solubility  in  the  fluid  of  the  tongue,  it 
is  only  in  some  form  of  combination  that  metals  can  affect  our 
gustatory  sensibility.  In  other  words,  they  must  be  transformed 
into  acids,  alkalies,  or  salts,  so  that  they  may  acquire  solubility, 
and  thereby  act  upon  the  nerves  of  taste.  In  this  way,  the 
metallic  becomes  merged  in  one  or  other  of  the  groups  above 
assigned. 

14.  The  astringent  is  a  distinct  form  of  the  sensation  of 
taste.  As  an  example,  we  may  refer  to  the  effect  of  alum  in 
the  mouth.  It  is  evident,  hov^ever,  that,  in  the  acid  action, 
and  still  more  in  the  action  of  astringency,  vv^e  depart  farther 
and  farther  from  the  proper  feeling  of  taste.  Astringent 
substances  act  on  the  skin  and  on  the  mucous  membranes 
generally ;  and  the  influence  lies  in  a  kind  of  contraction  or 
forcible  shrinking  of  the  part,  to  which  we  are  sensitive 
whenever  it  occurs  as  a  touch.  The  'rough  taste  of  tannin' 
may  be  put  down  under  astringency. 

15.  The  fiery  taste  of  alcoholic  liquors,  mustard,  pepper, 
camphors,  and  volatile  oils,  given  in  Gmelin's  classification, 
seems  to  me  to  be  happily  designated.  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  this  too  is  more  a  tactile  action  than  a  gustative, 
although,  in  some  of  the  other  substances  entering  with 
alcohol  into  wines,  spirits,  and  malt  liquors,  there  is  a 
genuine  stimulus  of  the  taste.  The  acrid  taste  may  be 
looked  on  as  a  form  of  the  fiery,  or  astringent,  combined 
with  some  ingredient  of  the  bitter.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  effect  of  peppermint  resembles  a  cold  contact  on  the 
skin.  The  pungency  that  marks  all  this  class  of  sensations 
is  a  remarkable  state  of  feeling,  deserving  to  be  once  for  all 
discussed  at  length.  This  discussion,  however,  I  prefer  to 
take  up  under  the  sense  of  smell,  the  next  in  order  in  our 
arrangement. 

1(3.  With  regard  to  the  Intellectual  aspect  of  Tastes  in 
general,  Longet  observes  that  these  sensations  are  deficient 
as  regards  the  power  of  being  remembered  ;  and  he  gives  as 


158  SENSE    OF    SMELL. 

a  proof  the  fact  that,  when  we  dream  of  being  present  at  a 
repast,  we  see  the  viands  but  do  not  taste  them.  The  fact 
is  not  beyond  question,  and,  besides,  it  is  an  extreme  com- 
parison :  it  contrasts  the  most  intellectual  of  all  the  senses, 
the  most  abiding  of  all  sensations,  with  those  that  are  least 
so.  It  is  thus  far  true,  that  we  do  not  recover  sensations  of 
taste  so  as  to  live  habitually  on  the  ideas  of  them  ;  but  they 
are  slightly  recoverable  even  as  ideas,  and,  for  the  purposes 
of  identification  and  contrast,  they  may  be  recovered  to  a 
very  great  extent.  A  wine  tasted  to-day  can  be  pronounced 
the  same  or  not  the  same  as  a  wine  tasted  a  week  ago,  while 
well-marked  tastes  may  be  remembered  for  years  in  this  way. 
The  intellectual  character  of  the  sense  is  also  illustrated 
by  its  improvability.  A  wine-taster,  a  cook,  or  a  chemist, 
can  acquire  a  delicate  sensibility  to  differences  of  taste, 
implying  that  its  impressions  can  find  an  abiding  place  in 
the  memory. 

SENSE  OF  SMELL. 


his  sense  is  in  close  proximity  to  the  organ  of  Taste, 
wifh  which  smell  frequently  co-operates  ;  but  we  may  con- 
sider it  as  placed  at  the  entrance  of  the  lungs  to  test  the 
purity  of  the  air  we  breathe. 

1.  The  external  objects  of  Smell — the  material  substances 
whose  contact  produces  the  sensations,  are  very  numerous. 
They  require  to  be  in  the  gaseous  state,  in  the  same  way 
that  the  objects  of  taste  require  to  be  liquefied.  Solids  and 
liquids,  therefore,  have  no  smell  except  by  being  evaporated 
or  volatilised. 

The  greater  number  of  gases  and  vapours  are  odorous. 
Of  inodorous  gases,  the  principal  are  the  elements  of  the 
atmosphere, — that  is  to  say,  nitrogen,  oxygen,  vapour  of 
water  or  steam,  and  carbonic  acid.*     In   the  long  list  of 

*  With  regard  to  carbonic  acid,  the  assertion  as  to  the  absence  of  smell 
is  true  of  the  amount  present  in  the  atmosphere ;  but,  collected  in  mass,  this 
gas  has  a  slightly  pungent,  somewhat  acid  odour.  As  with  pungent  odours 
generally,  the  effect  is  probably  due  to  the  irritation  of  the  nerves  of  the  fifth 
pair,  and  not  to  the  proper  olfactory  sensibility. 


EXTERNAL    OBJECTS    OF    SMELL.  10'.) 

gaseous  bodies  recognised  by  the  chemist,  we  find  very 
generally  some  action  on  the  nostrils, — carbonic  oxide,  sul- 
phurous  acid,  chlorine,  iodine,  the  nitrous  gases,  ammonia, 
sulphuretted  and  phosphoretted  hydrogen,  etc.,  the  vapour 
of  muriatic,  nitric,  and  other  acids.  The  singular  substance 
ozone,  produced  occasionally  in  the  atmosphere,  is  named 
from  its  smell,  which  is  the  smell  of  sulphur,  and  of  the 
odour  given  forth  by  electricity.  Some  of  the  metals  and 
solid  minerals  give  out  an  odour, — as,  for  example,  the  garlic 
smell  of  arsenic,  and  the  odour  of  a  piece  of  quartz  when 
broken.  The  effluvia  of  the  vegetable  kingdom  are  countless. 
Besides  such  widely  spread  products  as  alcohol  and  the  ethers, 
a  vast  number  of  plants  have  characteristic  odours,  usually 
attaching  to  their  flowers.  The  animal  kingdom,  also,  fur- 
nishes a  variety  of  odours  ;  some  general,  as  the  '  scent  of 
blood,'  and  others  special,  as  musk,  the  flavour  of  the  cow, 
the  sheep,  the  pig.  '  All  volatile  organic  compounds,'  says 
Gmelin, '  are  odoriferous,  and  most  of  them  are  distinguished 
by  very  strong  odours ;  e.g.,  volatile  acids,  volatile  oils, 
camphors  or  stearoptenes,  and  alcoholic  liquids  ;  marsh  gas 
(carburetted  hydrogen),  and  olefiant  gas,  have  but  very  little 
odour.' 

The  pleasant  odours,  chemically  considered,  are  hydro- 
carbons ;  that  is,  they  are  composed  chiefly  of  hydrogen  and 
carbon.  Such  is  alcohol  and  the  ethers,  eau  de  Cologne, 
attar  of  roses,  and  the  perfumes.  Many  smells,  however, 
elude  investigation  from  the  minuteness  of  the  substance 
causing  them.  Thus  the  vinous  flavour  is  due  to  a  substance 
which  the  chemist  has  been  able  to  separate,  being  termed 
the  oenanthic  ether ;  but  the  bouquet  of  individual  wines 
has  not  been  laid  hold  of. 

The  repulsive  gmd  disagreeable  odours  very  frequently 
contain  sulphur.  Sulphuretted  hydrogen  is  one  of  the  most 
common  of  the  disgusting  class. 

The  worst  smelling  substances  as  yet  discovered  have 
arsenic  for  their  base,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  following 
extract  (Gregory's  Chemistry,  p.  382). 


160  SENSE    OF    SMELL. 

'  When  acetate  of  potash  is  heated  aloiig  with  arsenious 
acid,  a  very  remarkable  hquid  is  obtained,  which  is  the 
oxide  of  a  new  radical.  This  hquid,  which  is  spontaneously 
inflammable,  and  has  a  most  offensive  alliaceous  smell,  has 
long  been  known  in  an  impure  state,  under  the  names  of 
liquor  of  Cadet,  and  alcarsine.  Bunsen,  by  a  long  series  of 
the  most  profound  and  persevering  researches,  established  its 
true  character  as  the  oxide  of  the  radical  kaJcodyle.'  This 
radical,  when  obtained,  '  is  a  clear  liquid,  refracting  light 
strongly.  When  cooled,  it  crystallises  in  large  square  prisms, 
and  acquires,  when  pure,  the  appearance  of  ice.  Its  smell  is 
insupportably  offensive,  and  its  vapour  is  highly  poisonous. 
The  two  latter  characters  belong  to  all  the  compounds  of 
kakodyle,  with  hardly  an  exception.'  Protoxide  of  kakodyle, 
the  chief  ingredient  in  the  liquor  of  Cadet,  is  most  offensive 
to  the  smell,  and  very  nauseous  to  the  taste.  '  Chloride  of 
kakodyle  is  a  volatile,  horribly  fetid  liquid,  the  vapour  of 
which  attacks  strongly  the  lining  membrane  of  the  nose,  and 
provokes  a  flow  of  tears.' 

The  pungent  odours  have  ammonia  for  their  type.  The 
volatile  alkali,  nicotine — the  element  of  the  snuffs,  is  an 
instance.  In  smelling  salts,  ammonia  is  the  substance 
given  forth. 

Liebig  has  been  able  to  lay  hold  of,  and  isolate,  the  sub- 
stance that  gives  the  odour  of  roast  meat.  Burning  fat  gives 
forth  odours  that  exemplify  the  volatile  oils  specified  by 
Gmelin. 

2.  The  development  or  production  of  odours  is  favoured 
by  a  variety  of  circumstances.  Heat,  by  its  volatilising 
power,  and  by  promoting  decomposition,  is  the  most  power- 
ful agent.  Light,  also,  which  carries  forward  the  develop- 
ment of  the  plant,  is  an  odoriferous  influence.  Hence  the 
abundance  and  variety  of  odours  in  warm  and  sunny 
climates,  and  in  the  summer  season.  The  presence  of 
moisture  is  often  favourable ;  but  the  manner  in  which 
this  agency  acts  is  not  always  obvious.  It  may,  perhaps, 
dissolve  solid  matters,  and  so  put  them  in  the  way  of  being 


DIFFUSION    OF    ODOURS.  161 

volatilized  :  this  may  be  the  cause  of  the  evolution  of  per- 
fumes after  a  shower.  On  the  other  hand,  some  flowers  are 
most  odorous  when  dried.  Friction  is  a  source  of  odours. 
By  rubbing  two  pieces  of  flint  or  siliceous  rock,  a  smell  is 
given  forth  ;  sulphur,  treated  in  the  same  way,  has  a  smell. 
Many  of  the  metals  have  the  same  property.  Doubtless, 
some  ingredient  is  volatilized  by  the  rubbing  action. 

8.  The  diffusion  of  odours  is  an  interesting  point,  and 
has  been  cleared  up  by  the  researches  of  Professor  Graham. 
Some  odours  are  light,  and,  therefore,  diffuse  rapidly  and 
rise  high  ;  as,  for  example,  sulphuretted  hydrogen.  Such  is, 
evidently,  the  character  of  the  aromatic  and  spice  odours  : 
they,  by  their  intensity  and  diffusibility  combined,  are  smelt 
at  great  distances.  The  Spice  Islands  of  the  Indian  Archi- 
pelago are  recognized  far  out  at  sea.  It  happens,  however, 
that  the  sweet  odours  are  remarkably  persistent,  while  the 
sulphuretted  compounds,  which  are  among  the  most  nauseous, 
are  very  rapidly  destroyed  in  the  atmosphere. 

The  animal  effluvia  (excepting  sulphuretted  hydrogen) 
are  dense  gases,  and  are  diftused  slowly.  They  do  not  rise 
high  in  the  air.  In  scenting,  a  pointer  keeps  his  nose  close 
to  the  ground.  The  unwholesome  effluvia  of  the  decaying 
matter  laid  on  the  soil  is  avoided  by  getting  to  a  moderate 
height :  a  person  lying  will  smell  what  would  not  be  smelt 
b}^  one  standing.  The  danger  of  sleeping  on  the  ground  in 
tropical  swamps  is  a  matter  of  fatal  experience  ;  swung  in  a 
tree  fifty  feet  high,  one  may  pass  the  night  safely.  Here 
diffusibility  is  one,  although  not  the  only,  circumstance ; 
during  the  night,  the  ventilation  or  upward  current  from 
the  ground  is  arrested,  and  the  malaria,  being  little  ditt'usible 
or  buoyant,  settles  on  the  surface. 

4.  We  have  next  to  consider  the  organ  of  smell, — that  is, 
the  Kose.  '  This  organ  consists  of,  first, the  anterior  prominent 
part,  composed  of  bone  and  cartilage,  with  muscles  which 
slightly  move  the  latter,  and  two  orifices  opening  downwards  ; 
and  secondly,  of  the  two  nasal  fossse.  in  which  the  olfactory 
nerves  are  expanded.    The  narrow  cavities  last  mentioned  are 

11 


162  SENSE    OF    SMELL. 

separated  one  from  the  other  by  a  partition  (the  septum  of 
the  nose)  formed  of  bone  and  cartilage  ;  they  communicate  at 
the  outer  sides  with  hollows  in  the  neighbouring  bones,  and 
they  open  backwards  -into  the  pharynx  through  the  posterior 
nares,'  or  openings.  The  sensitive  surface  is  a  membrane 
lining  the  whole  of  the  interior  complicated  cavities,  called 
the  pituitary  or  Schneiderian  membrane.  The  tortuosity  of 
the  passages  of  the  nose  gives  extent  of  surface  to  this  mem- 
brane, and  thereby  increases  the  sensibility  of  the  nose  as  a 
whole.  I  shall  quote  part  of  the  anatomical  description  of 
this  sensitive  tissue.  '  The  cavities  of  the  nose  are  lined  bv 
a  mucous  membrane  of  peculiar  structure,  which,  like  the 
membrane  that  lines  the  cavity  of  the  tympanum,  is  almost 
inseparably  united  with  the  periosteum  and  perichondrium, 
over  which  it  lies.  It  belongs,  therefore,  to  the  class  of  fibro- 
mucous  membranes,  and  it  is  highly  vascular.  Named  the 
pituitary  membrane,  it  is  continuous  with  the  skin,  through 
the  anterior  openings  of  the  nose ;  with  the  mucous  membrane 
of  the  pharynx,  through  the  posterior  apertures  of  the  nasal 
fossae ;  with  the  conjunctiva  (of  the  eye),  through  the  nasal 
duct  and  lachrymal  canals  ;  and  with  the  lining  membrane 
of  the  several  sinuses  (hollows)  which  communicate  with  the 
nasal  fossae.  The  pituitary  membrane,  however,  varies  much 
in  thickness,  vascularity,  and  general  appearance  in  these 
different  parts,'  With  regard,  also,  to  the  distribution  of  the 
olfactory  nerve  in  the  membrane,  there  are  great  differences 
in  the  parts,  the  general  fact  being  that  the  distribution  is 
most  copious  in  the  interior  parts  of  the  cavity  or  those 
farthest  removed  from  the  outer  openings.  The  parts  near 
the  openings  are  supplied  with  nerves  from  the  fifth  pair, 
which  give  to  these  parts  a  tactile  sensibility,  excited  by 
pungent  odours,  and  by  cold. 

The  olfactory  nerve  is  the  most  conspicuous  of  the  nerves 
of  sense ;  it  passes  inward  to  a  special  ganglion,  called  the 
olfactory  ganglion,  which  is  a  prominent  object  in  the  brain 
of  all  the  vertebrate  animals,  and,  in  the  lower  orders,  stands 
forth  as  a  distinct  lobe,  or  division,  of  the  encephalon. 


ACTION    OF    ODOURS    ON    THE    NOSE.  163 

The  sense  of  smell  seems  to  play  a  far  more  important  part 
in  the  Uves  of  the  lower  animals  than  it  does  in  our  own  life  ; 
and  what  we  now  possess  is  probably  the  mere  remnant  of  a  once 
powerful  mechanism.  We  may,  perhaps,  connect  with  this,  on 
the  one  hand,  the  fact  that,  even  in  ourselves,  the  olfactory  fibres 
have  allotted  to  them  what  is  virtually  a  w^hole  segment  of  the 
brain,  namely,  the  olfactory  lobe,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  fact 
that  olfactory  sensations  seem  to  have  an  unusually  direct  path 
to  the  inner  working  of  the  central  nervous  system.  Mental 
associations  cluster  more  strongly  round  sensations  of  smell  than 
round  almost  any  other  impressions  we  receive  from  without. 
And  powerful  reflex  effects  are  very  frequent,  many  people  faint- 
ing in  consequence  of  the  contact  of  a  few  odorous  particles  with 
their  olfactory  cells  (Foster,  A  Text-book  of  Physiology,  5th  ed., 
p.  1390). 

5.  The  action  of  odours  on  the  membrane  of  the  nose  has 
next  to  be  considered.  On  this  subject,  as  on  the  action  of 
sapid  substances  on  the  tongue,  much  remains  to  be  knov^n. 
Nevertheless,  there  are  some  interesting  facts  which  show^  that 
the  action  is  of  a  chemical  nature,  or,  at  least,  depends  upon 
chemical  conditions.  For  the  following  statements,  I  am 
indebted  to  Professor  Graham. 

Odorous  substances  in  general  are  such  as  can  be  readily 
acted  on  by  oxygen.  For  example,  sulphuretted  hydrogen, 
one  of  the  most  intense  of  odours,  is  rapidly  decomposed  in 
the  air  by  the  action  of  the  oxygen  of  the  atmosphere.  In 
like  manner,  the  hydro-carbons,  above  alluded  to  as  odorous, 
are  all  oxidizable, — the  ethers,  alcohol,  and  the  essential  oils 
that  make  the  aromatic  perfumes.  The  gases  that  have  no 
smell  are  not  acted  on  by  oxygen  at  common  temperatures. 
The  marsh  gas,  carburretted  hydrogen,  is  a  remarkable  case 
in  point.  This  gas  has  no  smell.  As  a  proof  of  the  absence 
of  the  oxidizable  property.  Professor  Graham  obtained  a 
quantity  of  the  gas,  from  the  deep  mines  where  it  had  lain 
for  geological  ages,  and  found  it  actually  mixed  up  with 
free  oxygen,  which  would  not  have  been  possible  if  there  had 
been  the  smallest  tendency  for  the  tw-o  to  combine.     Again, 


164  SENSE    OF    SMELL. 

hydrogen  has  no  smeU,  if  obtained  in  the  proper  circum- 
stances ;  now  this  gas,  although  combining  with  oxygen  at  a 
sufficiently  high  temperature,  does  not  so  combine  at  any 
temperature  endurable  by  the  human  tissues. 

It  is,  further,  determined  that,  unless  a  stream  of  air 
containing  oxygen  pass  into  the  cavities  of  the  nostrils,  along 
with  the  odoriferous  effluvia,  no  smell  is  produced.  Also, 
if  a  current  of  carbonic  acid  accompany  an  odour,  the  effect 
is  arrested. 

In  the  third  place,  certain  of  the  combinations  of  hydrogen 
have  been  actually  shown  to  be  decomposed  in  the  act  of  pro- 
ducing smell.  Thus,  when  a  small  quantity  of  seleniuretted 
hj^drogen  passes  through  the  nose,  the  metallic  selenium  is 
found  reduced  upon  the  lining  membrane  of  the  cavities. 
The  action  on  the  sense  is  very  strong,  notwithstanding  the 
minuteness  of  the  dose ;  there  is  an  intensely  bad  smell,  as 
of  decaying  cabbage,  and  the  irritation  of  the  membrane 
causes  catarrh. 

These  facts,  so  far  as  they  go,  prove  that  there  is  a 
chemical  action  at  work  in  smell,  and  that  this  action  con- 
sists in  the  coinbination  of  the  oxygen  of  the  air  with  the 
odorous  substance.  The  effect  of  ozone,  which  is  considered 
a  more  active  form  of  oxygen,  and,  therefore,  not  oxidizable, 
may  be  to  decompose  the  nasal  mucus,  and  so  to  stimulate 
the  nerve  of  smell.* 

6.  AVe  pass,  now,  from  the  physical  to  the  mental  pheno- 

*  The  minuteness  of  the  particles  of  bodies  acting  on  the  sense  of  smell 
has  often  been  dwelt  upon  as  a  striking  example  of  the  divisibility  of  matter. 
Sulphuretted  hydrogen  in  the  atmosphere,  in  the  proportion  of  one  to  a 
million,  is  distinctly  perceptible.  Ammonia  is  perceptible  in  the  proportion 
of  1  to  33,000. 

The  following  minute  quantities  of  different  substances  spread  out  on  the 
surface  of  smell  cause  a  distinct  sensation  : — of  phosphuretted  hydrogen,  ^^-^ 
gr.  ;  of  sulphuretted  hydrogen,  -^^-^-^  gr.  ;  of  Bromine,  ^xriffTj  g^- ;  of  oil  of 
resin,  xTSTraoinr  &■  A  still  smaller  quantity  of  musk  than  the  last  given 
smells  strongly,  but  the  actual  measure  has  not  been  ascertained  (Valentin). 
Among  the  instances  of  powerful  and  far-reaching  odours,  we  may  rank  the 
roasting  of  meat  and  many  other  odours  of  the  kitchen,  burning  wood  and 
tobacco. 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    ODOURS.  IGo 

mena  of  smell : — the  sensations,  or  peculiar  states  of  con- 
sciousness, that  all  those  physical  antecedents  end  in  giving 
birth  to.  Unavoidable  allusion  has  already  been  made  to 
these  mental  effects,  in  the  description  of  the  smelling 
substances. 

'  Linnaeus  has  divided  odours  into  seven  principal  classes : 
1st,  aromatic,  as  the  carnation,  the  laurel,  etc. ;  2nd,  frag ra7it, 
as  the  lily,  the  crocus,  the  jasmine,  etc. ;  3rd,  ambrosiac, 
among  M'hich  are  musk  and  amber ;  4th,  alliaceous,  which 
are  agreeable  to  some  persons  and  disagreeable  to  others,  and 
have  more  or  less  of  the  character  of  garlic, — assafoetida,  for 
example,  and  several  other  gum-resinous  juices;  5th,  fetid,  a,s 
those  of  the  goat,  of  the  rag-wort  {orchis  hirci?ia),  valerian, 
etc. ;  6th,  virulent,  as  those  of  Indian  pink  (I'oeillet  d'Incle), 
and  many  plants  of  the  family  of  the  solaneae  (from  solanum, 
the  night-shade) ;  7th,  nauseous,  as  the  gourd,  the  cucumber, 
and  those  of  its  class '  (Longet,  p.  151). 

Of  several  classifications  quoted  by  the  same  author,  the 
above  seems  to  me  the  best,  but  even  that  one  is  by  no 
means  free  from  objections.  The  three  first  classes — the 
aromatic,  fragrant,  and  ambrosiac — do  not  appear  to  have 
very  stronglv  marked  differences ;  nor  is  the  distinction 
between  fetid  and  nauseous  a  generic  one. 

As  in  describing  taste,  I  shall  proceed  upon  the  plan  of 
stating, — first,  the  odours  that  owe  their  character  to  sym- 
pathy with  the  vital  organ  in  alliance  with  the  sense, — namely, 
the  Lmigs ;  secondly,  those  that  appeal  to  the  pm-ely  Olfactory 
sensibility  ;  and,  thirdly,  those  involving  an  excitation  of  the 
nerves  of  Touch. 

7.  Fresh  odours  are  such  as  have  an  action  akin  to  pure 
air,  or  coolness  in  the  midst  of  excessive  heat ;  an  action 
mainly  respiratory,  or  tending  to  increase  the  activity  .of  the 
lungs,  and,  with  that,  the  physical  energy  of  the  system. 
Many  of  the  balmy  odours  of  the  field  and  the  garden  have 
this  effect :  musk,  eau-de-Cologne,  and  other,  but  not  alJ, 
perfumes,  are  included  in  the  same  class ;  the  odour  of  the 
cow  is  both  fresh  and  sweet.     We  may  recognize  them  by 


166  SENSE    OF    SMELL. 

their  effect  in  stimulating  and  reviving  the  system  under  the 
oppression  and  suffocation  of  a  crowded  assembly.  Such 
odours  are  not  always  fragrant  in  their  character,  for  we 
might  cite  cases  of  unpleasant  effluvia  that  seem  to  refresh 
and  stimulate  the  system.  The  odour  of  a  tan-yard  is, 
perhaps,  a  case  in  point.  The  nervous  connexions  of  the 
nostrils  with  the  lungs  enable  this  reaction  of  the  one  upon 
the  other  to  take  place.  Or  the  influence  of  the  gases  may 
be  on  the  surface  of  the  lungs,  rather  than  on  the  nose — a 
thing  not  at  all  unlikely  in  many  cases  coming  under  both 
freshness  and  the  opposite.  On  this  supposition,  these 
would  be  smells  falsely  so  called,  and  would  correspond  to 
the  relishes  and  disgusts  described  under  taste. 

8.  The  opposite  of  freshness  is  shown  in  the  close  or  suf- 
focating odours.  The  effluvia  of  crowds,  by  acting  on  the 
lungs,  have  pre-eminently  this  damping  and  discouraging 
action  on  the  powers  of  life ;  whence  it  is  that  we  seek  the 
open  air  and  the  solitudes  of  nature,  to  shake  off  the  depres- 
sion of  rooms  and  of  cities.  The  effluvia  of  warehouses, 
stores,  and  mills,  where  cotton,  wool,  cloths,  etc.,  are  piled  up, 
and  where  ventilation  is  defective,  are  of  a  like  unwholesome 
description,  The  smell  of  a  pastrycook's  kitchen  is  sickening. 
The  action  of  highly-heated  iron  stoves  seems  of  the  same 
nature ;  also,  the  smell  of  a  woollen  screen  when  held  too  close 
to  the  fire.  In  these  last  instances,  there  is  believed  to  be  an 
evolution  of  the  unwholesome  and  suffocating  gas  cyanogen, 
from  the  destructive  decomposition  of  the  woolly  particles 
floating  in  the  air,  or  making  part  of  the  screen. 

9.  Although  we  may  not  be  able  to  affirm  that  any  class 
of  odours  stimulates  the  stomach  by  a  direct  influence,  as 
fresh  odours  do  the  lungs,  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the 
existence  of  a  class  of  the  opposite  kind — the  disgusting  or 
nauseous  odours.  That  is  to  say,  there  are  certain  gases,  of 
which  sulphuretted  hydrogen  is  an  example  and  a  type,  that 
pervert  the  action  of  the  alimentary  canal,  as  some  tastes  do. 
It  is  doubtful,  at  least  so  far  as  my  information  goes,  on  what 
surface  these  effluvia  operate — whether  on  the  membrane  of 


FRAGRANT    ODOURS.  167 

the  nose  exclusively,  or  (as  is  probable)  partially  on  it  and 
partially  on  the  mucous  surface  of  the  tongue,  throat,  and 
stomach.  But,  whatever  be  the  seat  of  action,  the  fact  in 
question  is  one  sufticiently  well  marked  to  make  the  specific 
difference  of  a  class. 

10.  It  may  be  a  question  whether  the  foregoing  classes 
exemplify  true  and  proper  effects  on  the  organ  of  smell.  Xo 
such  ambiguity  attaches  to  the  odours  that  we  term  sweet  or 
fragrant.     These  represent  the  pure  or  proper  pleasures  of 

smell :  the  enjoyment  we  are  able  to  derive  through  the 
olfactory  nerves  and  ganglion.  They  include  the  substances 
that  convey  along  this  channel  to  the  mind  a  perfectly 
pleasurable  stimulus.  The  sweetness  may  accompany  fresh- 
ness, or  it  may  not.  The  odour  of  the  violet  is  a  pure  instance 
of  sweetness  :  the  rose,  jasmine,  orange,  lemon,  lavender, 
rosemary,  are  well-known  examples  of  odorous  plants.  The 
cases  of  sweetness  enjoyed  with  some  other  quality  are  also 
extremely  numerous. 

Sweetness  is  a  name  for  a  variety  of  pleasures.  Derived 
originally  from  taste,  it  is  extended  to  smells,  to  sounds,  and 
to  several  of  the  higher  emotions,  such  as  the  tender  affections, 
and  the  beautiful  in  nature  and  in  art.  These  feelings  are  so 
far  of  a  kindred  nature,  as  to  suggest  and  support  each  other. 
They  all  agree  in  being  forms  of  pure  passive  pleasure.  In 
this  respect,  they  resemble  muscular  repose,  warmth,  and 
healthy  digestion  ;  but  they  are  more  acute  than  these  states. 
They  are,  also,  more  intellectual, — as  shown  both  in  dis- 
crimination and  in  ideal  persistence,  which  gives  the  superi- 
ority indicated  by  the  name  '  refinement '. 

11.  The  opposite  of  sweet  in  odours  is  described  by  the 
general  name  stinks :  the  expressive  word  bitter  is  not 
usually  applied  to  smell.  The  term  '  raal-odour "  has  come 
into  use,  and  is  a  convenient  word.  If  we  leave  out 
both  the  nauseous  odours,  and  certain  other  forms  of  the 
disagreeable  to  be  afterwards  described,  this  class  will  be 
hmited  considerably.  Assafoetida  may  be  given  as  an 
example  of  an  odour  intensely  repulsive,  by  its  action  on  the 


168  SENSE    OF    SMELL. 

olfactory  nerves  alone.  The  cadaverous  odour  is  of  the 
repulsive  kind,  but  it  is  only  one  of  many  forms  of  disagree- 
able effluvia  arising  from  animal  decay.  The  aroma  of  some 
plants,  as  those  quoted  by  Linnaeus,  has  an  intensely  un- 
pleasant action.  The  disagreeable  marsh  smell  may  be 
experienced  in  its  strongest  form  by  squeezing  the  brown 
scum  of  a  stagnant  pond  in  the  fingers,  and  applying  them 
to  the  nose.     The  varieties  of  bad  odours  are  endless. 

As  sweetness  is  the  proper  pleasure  of  smell,  the  effect  of 
a  stink  is  the  proper  pain  of  the  organ, — the  influence  origi- 
nating the  peculiar  form  of  misery  that  we  are  adapted  to 
receive  by  means  of  this  sense.  The  sensation  may  be  speci- 
fied as  the  nose-pain.  As  it  is  of  an  intense,  rather  than  a 
massive,  character,  we  are  stunned  and  discomposed,  but  not 
necessarily  depressed  or  prostrated,  by  it.  It  resembles  in 
this  respect  a  bitter  taste,  and  is  contrasted  with  the  massive 
pains  of  chillness,  indigestion,  or  disgust.  The  expression  is 
in  accordance  with  the  acuteness  of  the  sensation ;  being  an 
intense  contortion  of  the  features,  chiefly  about  the  nose.  A 
sort  of  hysteric  smile  may  likewise  be  provoked. 

The  peculiar  sensation  of  an  ill  smell  is  often  appealed 
to  metaphorically,  to  express  the  feelings  caused  by  human 
conduct. 

12.  The  name  pungent  is  applicable  to  a  large  class  of 
odours  ;  and  the  quality  enters  as  an  ingredient  into  many 
more.  Ammonia  is  the  type  of  substances  producing  this 
sensation.  Nicotine,  the  snuff  odoar,  is  the  best  known  ex- 
ample,— a  substance  having  a  chemical  analogy  to  ammonia. 
Pepper,  mustard,  and  many  of  the  acid  effluvia,  have  a 
pungent  action.  This  effect,  however,  is  not  an  olfactory 
effect  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word  ;  like  astringency  and 
acidity  in  taste,  it  would  probably  arise  through  the  nose 
independently  of  the  power  of  smell.  Snuff-takers  are  often 
devoid  of  smell ;  they  lose  the  sense  of  sweet  or  repulsive  in 
odours  properly  so  called,  but  are  still  susceptible  of  the 
nicotine  pungency.  The  influence  flows  through  the  same 
channel  to  the  brain,  and  is  of  the  same  nature  as  pricking 


PUNGENT    ODOURS.  169 

the  nose,  or  pulling  out  hairs,  being  conveyed  by  the  nerves 
of  common  sensation. 

The  excitement  of  pungency  is  a  characteristic  variety  of 
the  human  consciousness — a  species  of  agreeable  sensation, 
interesting  to  study.  It  shows  the  effect  of  a  sharp  mechani- 
cal irritation  of  the  nerves  that  does  not  amount  to  acute 
pain.  A  scratch,  or  a  blow  on  the  skin,  an  electric  spark, 
a  loud  crash,  a  brilliant  flame,  a  scorching  heat,  are  all 
pungent  effects,  and  seem  to  operate  as  causes  of  excitement. 
They  rouse  the  system  from  ennui  ;  they  are  a  species  of 
intoxication.  They  exalt,  for  the  time  being,  the  tone  of 
the  mind.  They  come,  therefore,  to  be  one  of  the  cravings 
associated  with  ennui,  or  depression  of  mind  :  they  are,  like- 
wise, a  stimulus  for  bringing  out  the  exuberance  of  the 
animal  spirits  in  the  j'oung  and  vigorous. 

13.  The  ethereal  is  a  distinct  variety  of  the  sensations  of 
smell,  and  is  probably  a  mixture  of  pungency  with  odour 
strictly  so  called.  Alcohol  and  the  ethers,  including  chloro- 
form and  the  substance  first  employed  as  an  anaesthetic,  will 
recall  this  effect.  There  can  be  no  question  that  alcohol 
and  the  vinous  aromas  have  true  odours  ;  most  probably, 
however,  they  have  an  influence  upon  other  nerves  than  the 
olfactor}- — ^just  as  the  fiery  taste  attributed  to  them  is  some- 
thing beyond  the  gustatory  feeling.  At  all  events,  the  odour 
is  distinct.  It  is  not  destitute  of  sweetness,  but  something 
besides  sweet  is  wanted  to  express  it. 

The  sulphurous  and  electrical  odour,  which  is  also  the 
odour  of  ozone,  may  be  referred  to  the  same  class. 

If  we  were  to  recognize  a  class  of  acrid  odours,  we  should 
find  that  they  are  only  a  mixture  of  pungency  and  bad  smell ; 
like  many  of  the  so-called  empijreumatic  odours  resulting 
from  the  action  of  heat  on  vegetable  bodies,  as  in  the  manu- 
facture of  coal  gas. 

14.  The  appetizing  smells  might  be  treated  as  a  class 
apart  from  the  rest.  The  smell  of  flesh  excites  the  carni- 
vorous appetite,  and  rouses  the  animal  to  pursuit.  We  may 
probably  consider  this  influence  as  similar  in  its  working  to 


170  SENSE    OF    SMELL. 

the  first  taste  of  savoury  food ;  by  the  law  of  feehng-prompted 
movement,  it  sets  on  the  activity  for  an  increase  of  the 
gratification.  A  savoury  smell  may  partly  give  a  commencing 
pleasure  of  digestion,  and  partly  stimulate  the  appetite. 
The  sexual  excitement  in  some  animals  is  induced  by  smell. 
Sympathy  and  antipathy  are  alike  generated  by  odours. 
The  influence  of  odours  upon  the  voluptuous  tender  emotions 
has  not  escaped  the  notice  of  the  poets.  Cabanis  observes 
that  the  odours  of  young  animals  are  of  a  kind  to  attract, 
and,  he  considers,  even  to  invigorate,  the  older. 

15.  Tastes,  properly  so  called,  affect  only  the  gustatory 
nerves,  and  are,  therefore,  the  same  whether  the  nostrils  are 
opened  or  closed.  But  many  sapid  bodies  are  also  odorous. 
In  the  act  of  expiration  accompanying  mastication,  especially 
[the  instant  after  deglutition,  the  odorous  particles  are  carried 
mto  the  cavities  of  the  nose,  and  affect  the  sense  of  smell,  or 
make  their  odour  apparent.  This  effect  is  what  we  term 
flavour.  Some  bodies,  as  cinnamon,  have  hardly  any  taste, 
but  have  a  flavour,  in  other  words  an  odour,  brought  out  by 
mastication. 

The  sensation  takes  some  time  to  develop,  after  the  contact  of 
the  stimulus  with  the  olfactory  membrane,  aud  may  last  very 
long.  When  the  stimulus  is  repeated,  the  sensation  very  soon 
dies  out :  the  sensory  terminal  organs  speedily  become  exhausted. 
The  larger,  apparently,  the  surface  of  olfactory  membrane  em- 
ployed, the  more  intense  the  sensation :  animals  with  acute 
scent  have  a  proportionately  lai'ge  area  of  olfactory  membrane. 
The  greater  the  quantity  of  odoriferous  material  brought  to  the 
membrane,  the  more  intense  the  sensation  up  to  a  certain  limit ; 
and  an  olfactometer  for  measuring  olfactory  sensations  has  been 
constructed,  the  measurements  being  given  by  the  size  of  the 
superficial  area,  impregnated  with  an  odoriferous  substance,  over 
which  the  air  must  pass,  in  order  to  give  rise  to  a  distinct  sensa- 
tion. The  limit  of  increase  of  sensation,  however,  is  soon  reached, 
a  minute  quantity  producing  the  maximum  of  sensation  and 
further  increase  giving  rise  to  exhaustion.  The  minimum  quan- 
tity of  material  required  to  produce  an  olfactory  sensation  may 


SMELL    AS    AN    INTELLECTUAL    INSTRUMENT.  3  71 

be,  in  some  cases,   as  in   that   of  musk,  almost   immeasurably 
small  (Foster,  .1  Text-book  of  Phtjsiology,  p.  1389). 

16.  Smell,  like  taste,  is  an  important  instrument  in  the 
discrimination  of  material  bodies,  and,  therefore,  serves  a  high 
function  in  guiding  our  actions  and  in  extending  our  know- 
ledge of  the  world.  Man  does  not  exemplify  the  highest 
development  of  this  organ.  The  order  of  ruminants,  certain 
of  the  pachydermatous  animals,  and  above  all  the  carnivorous 
quadrupeds,  excel  the  human  subject  in  the  expansion  given 
to  the  membrane  of  the  nose,  and  in  a  corresponding  sensi- 
bility to  odours.  The  scent  of  the  dog  is  to  us  almost 
miraculous  ;  it  directs  his  pursuit,  and  tells  him  his  where- 
abouts. It  may  act  the  part  of  sight  in  enabling  him  to 
retrace  his  steps  or  to  find  out  his  master. 

SENSE  OF  TOUCH. 

1.  Physiologists,  in  describing  the  senses,  usually  com- 
mence with  Touch.  '  This,'  say  Messrs.  Todd  and  Bowman, 
'is  the  simplest  and  most  rudimentary  of  all  the  special 
senses,  and  may  be  considered  as  an  exalted  form  of  common 
sensation,  from  which  it  rises,  by  imperceptible  gradations, 
to  its  state  of  highest  development  in  some  particular  parts. 
It  has  its  seat  in  the  whole  of  the  skin,  and  in  certain 
mucous  membranes,  as  that  of  the  mouth,  and  is  therefore 
the  sense  most  generally  diffused  over  the  body.  It  is  also 
that  which  exists  most  extensively  in  the  animal  kingdom  ; 
being,  probably,  never  absent  in  any  species.  It  is,  besides, 
the  earliest  called  into  operation,  and  the  least  complicated 
in  its  impressions  and  mechanism.' 

It  may  be  well  admitted  that  Touch  is  less  complicated 
than  Taste,  in  whose  organ  four  different  kinds  of  sensations 
may  be  said  to  meet,  the  tactile  being  one  of  them.  It  may 
be  further  said  of  touch,  that  the  mode  of  action  (mechanical 
contact  or  pressure)  appears  to  us  the  most  simple  of  any. 
Nevertheless,  touch  is  an  intellectual  sense  of  a  far  higher 
order  than  either  taste  or  smell.  It  is  not  merely  a  knowledge- 
giving  sense,  as  all  the  senses  are,  but  a  source  of  ideas  and 


172  SENSE    OP   TOUCH. 

conceptions  of  the  kind  that  remain  in  the  intellect  and 
embrace  the  outer  world.  The  notions  of  the  size, 
shape,  direction,  distances,  and  situation  of  external  bodies 
may  be  acquired  by  touch,  but  not  by  either  taste  or 
smell. 

But  this  last  assertion  must  be  accompanied  by  an 
important  explanation.  Touch,  considered  as  a  source  of 
ideas  such  as  those,  is  really  not  a  simple  sense,  but  a  com- 
pound of  sense  and  motion  ;  and  it  is  to  the  muscular  part 
of  the  sense,  or  to  the  movements  of  the  touching  organs, 
that  these  conceptions  owe  their  origin  and  their  embodiment, 
as  we  have  endeavoured  to  show  in  the  previous  chapter. 
The  superiority  of  touch  to  taste  and  smell,  in  this  view, 
therefore,  consists  in  its  union  with  movement  and  muscular 
sensibility  ;  and  the  same  advantage  pertains  to  sight.  The 
contact  of  solid  bodies  with  the  surface  of  the  body  gives 
occasion  to  the  exercise  of  movement,  force,  and  resistance, 
and  to  the  feelings  and  perceptions  consequent  on  these  : 
which  cannot  be  said  to  any  extent  of  smell,  or  of  taste 
properly  so  called. 

A  second  feature  marking  the  superiority  of  the  sense  of 
Touch,  and  qualifying  it  to  furnish  intellectual  forms  and 
imagery,  is  the  distinctness  or  separateness  of  the  sensations 
felt  over  the  different  parts  of  the  skin.  The  sensations  of 
the  different  parts  of  the  surface  of  smell,  would  seem  all  to 
fuse  into  one  stream  of  sensibility,  it  is  barely  possible  ever  to 
refer  a  smell  to  any  one  portion  of  the  membrane  more  than 
another.  But  the  sensations  of  the  skin  are  conveyed  by 
distinct  nervous  filaments  ;  each  little  area  of  skin  has  a 
separate  nerve,  and  an  independent  communication  with  the 
nerve  centres,  whereby  we  can,  after  a  little  education,  refer 
each  sensation  to  the  spot  where  the  contact  is  made.  The 
stimulus  on  one  finger  is  not,  at  any  part  of  the  course  of 
the  nerve,  confounded  with  the  stimulus  on  another  finger ; 
the  back  can  always  be  distinguished  from  the  breast,  the 
right  side  from  the  left,  and  so  on.  I  shall  afterwards 
endeavour  to  show  that  this  localization  of  touches  has  to  be 


SUPERIORITY   OF   TOUCH,  17:3 

learned  by  practice  ;  but  the  very  possibility  of  it  rests  upon 
the  distinctness  and  independence  of  the  nerve  filaments. 
This  is  an  extremely  important  fact,  and  makes  the  great 
difference  between  touch  and  what  is  sometimes  called 
'  common  sensation,'  or  the  sensibility  diffused  over  all  the 
internal  organs  and  tissues.  There  is  no  such  distinguishing 
sensibility  in  the  stomach,  or  the  lungs,  or  the  liver  :  at  all 
events,  the  distinctness  of  the  nerves  in  those  parts  is  very 
low  in  degree,  just  sufhcient  to  enable  us  to  refer  a  pain  to 
the  lungs,  the  liver,  or  the  stomach,  without  indicating  the 
particular  region  or  sub-division.  The  skin  is,  therefore, 
marked  by  a  great  exaltation  of  the  common  sensibility  of 
the  body,  not  as  regards  intensity  of  feeling,  but  as  regards 
distinctiveness  of  locality. 

2.  Having  made  these  preliminary  remarks,  we  commence, 
as  usual,  with  the  objects,  or  external  agents,  concerned  in  the 
sense  of  Touch.  These  are,  principally,  the  solid  substances 
of  the  outer  world.  Gases  do  not  act  on  the  touch,  unless 
they  are  blown  with  great  violence.  Liquids  also  give  very 
little  feeling,  if  they  are  of  the  same  warmth  as  the  body. 
The  sensations  of  a  bath  are  confined  to  heat  or  cold.  It  is 
manifest  that  an  even,  equal  pressure,  such  as  fluids  give,  is 
not  sufficient  to  impress  the  tactile  nerves.  The  asperities 
and  inequalities  of  solid  surfaces,  by  pressing  intensely  on 
some  points  and  not  at  all  on  others,  are  requisite  for  this 
purpose. 

The  hard,  unyielding  nature  of  the  mineral  constituents 
of  the  earth's  crust,  metals,  rocks,  etc.,  is  well  fitted  to  excite 
the  touch.  The  woody  fibre  of  the  vegetable  world  has  a 
compactness  next  in  degree  to  the  solid  minerals.  The  soft 
and  yielding  class  of  solids  impress  the  surface  in  a  totally 
different  manner :  and  these  differ  among  themselves  ac- 
cording as  they  recover  their  form  after  pressure,  or  not ; 
whence  the  distinction  of  elastic  and  non-elastic.  When 
the  substance  is  moved  over  the  skin,  the  asperities  come 
to  be  felt  more  acutely,  and  hence  the  further  distinction 
into  rough  and  smooth  surfaces.     In  treating  of  the  sensa- 


17-i  SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 

tions  themselves,  we  shall   attend  to  these    qualities  more 
minutely. 

3.  The  sensitive  organ  or  surface  is  the  Skin,  or  common 
integument  of  the  body,  the  interior  of  the  mouth,  and  the 
tongue.  The  parts  of  the  Skin  are  its  two  layers,  its  papillae, 
the  hairs  and  nails,  its  two  species  of  glands, — the  one 
yielding  sweat,  the  other  a  fatty  secretion,- — with  blood- 
vessels and  nerves.  I  shall  quote  a  few  extracts  from  the 
anatomical  description  of  those  parts.  '  Of  the  two,  layers, 
the  outermost  is  the  cuticle,  epidermis,  or  scarf  skin.  It 
forms  a  protective  covering  over  every  part  of  the  true  skin. 
The  thickness  of  the  cuticle  varies  in  different  parts  of -the 
surface,  measuring  in  some  places  not  more  than  o^oth,  and 
in  other  parts,  as  much  as  irxth  of  an  inch  (about  one  milli-. 
metre),  or  even  more  than  this  in  some  individuals.  It  is 
thickest  in  the  palms  of  the  hands  and  soles  of  the  feet, 
where  the  skin  is  much  exposed  to  intermittent  pressure, 
and  not  improbably  such  pressure  may  serve  to  stimulate 
the  subjacent  true  skin  to  a  more  active  formation  of 
epidermis  ;  still  the  difference  does  not  depend  immedi- 
ately on  external  causes,  for  it  is  well  marked  even  in  the 
foetus. 

'  The  more  firm  and  transparent  superficial  part,  or 
horny  layer,  of  the  epidermis,  may  be  separated  after 
maceration  from  the  deeper,  softer,  more  opaque  and 
recently  formed  part,  which  constitutes  what  is  called  the 
Malpighian  layer,  or  rete  mucosum. 

'  Many  of  the  cells  of  the  cuticle  contain  pigment-granules, 
and  in  parts  give  the  membrane  more  or  less  of  a  tawny 
colour,  even  in  the  white  races  of  mankind ;  the  blackness 
of  the  skin  in  the  negro  depends  entirely  on  the  cuticle. 
The  pigment  is  contained  principally  in  the  cells  of  the  deep 
layer  or  the  rete  mucosum,  but  even  the  superficial  part 
possesses  a  certain  degree  of  colour. 

'  The  true  shin,  cutis  vera,  derma,  or  corium,  is  a  sentient 
and  vascular  fibrous  texture.  It  is  covered  and  defended  by 
the  non-vascular  cuticle,  and  is  attached  to  the  parts  beneath 


THE    SKIN.  175 

by  a  layer  of  areolar  tissue,  named  "  subcutaneous,"  wbich, 
excepting  in  a  few  parts,  contains  fat,  and  has  therefore  been 
called  also  the  "  panniculus  adiposus  ".  The  connexion  is  in 
many  parts  loose  and  movable,  in  others  close  and  firm — as 
on  the  palmar  surface  of  the  hand  and  the  sole  of  the  foot, 
where  the  skin  is  fixed  to  the  subjacent  fascia  by  numerous 
stout  fibrous  bands  :  the  space  between  being  filled  with 
a  firm  padding  of  fat.  In  some  regions  of  the  body,  the 
skin  is  moved  by  striated  muscular  fibres,  which,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  orbicular  muscle  of  the  mouth,  may  be 
unconnected  with  fixed  parts,  or  may  be  attached  beneath 
to  bones  or  fascine,  like  the  other  cutaneous  muscles  of 
the  face  and  neck,  and  the  short  palmar  muscle  of  the 
hand. 

'  The  free  surface  of  the  true  skin  is  marked  in  various 
places  with  larger  or  smaller  furrows,  which  also  affect  the 
superjacent  cuticle.  The  larger  of  them  are  seen  opposite 
the  flexures  of  the  joints,  as  those  so  well  known  in  the  palm 
of  the  hand  and  at  the  joints  of  the  fingers.  The  finer 
furrows  intersect  each  other  at  various  angles,  and  may  be 
seen  almost  all  over  the  surface  ;  they  are  very  conspicuous 
on  the  back  of  the  hands.  Fine  curvilinear  ridges,  with  in- 
tervening furrows,  mark  the  skin  of  the  palm  and  sole  ;  these 
are  caused  by  ranges  of  the  papilla3,  to  be  immediately 
described.' 

'  Papillce. — The  free  surface  of  the  corium  is  beset  with 
small  eminences  thus  named,  which  seem  chiefly  intended  to 
contribute  to  the  perfection  of  the  skin  as  an  organ  of  touch, 
seeing  that  they  are  highly  developed  where  the  sense  of 
touch  is  exquisite.  They  serve  also  to  extend  the  surface 
for  the  production  of  the  cuticular  tissue,  and  hence  are 
large-sized  and  numerous  under  the  nail.  The  papillfe  are 
large,  and  in  close  array  on  the  palm  of  the  hand  and  palmar 
surface  of  the  fingers,  and  on  the  corresponding  parts  of  the 
foot.  In  these  places  they  are  ranged  in  lines  forming  the 
characteristic  curvilinear  ridges  seen  when  the  skin  is  still 
covered  with  its  thick  epidermis.     They  are  of  a  conical 


176  SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 

figure,  rounded  or  blunt   at  the  top,  and   sometimes  cleft 

into  two  or  more  points  when  they 
are  named  compound  papillae.  They 
are  received  into  corresponding  pits 
on  the  under-surface  of  the  cuticle. 
In  structure  they  resemble  the  rest 
"FioTn.*' '  of  the  superficial  layer  of  the  corium, 

and  consist  of  a  finely  fibrillated 
tissue,  with  a  few  elastic  fibres.  The  bundles  of  fibrils  chiefly 
run  parallel  to  the  axis  of  the  papilla ;  and  the  fibrils  appear  to 
end  near  its  surface,  which  has  a  somewhat  corrugated  aspect. 
On  the  palm,  sole,  and  nipple,  w^here  they  are  mostly  of  the 
compound  variety,  thej^  measure  from  ^Jotb  to  tw^^^^  oi  aq 
inch  (0*125  to  0*25  mm.)  in  height.  In  the  ridges,  the  larger 
papillae  are  placed  sometimes  in  single  but  more  commonly 
in  double  rows,  with  smaller  ones  between  them ;  that  is,  also 
on  the  ridges,  for  there  are  none  in  the  intervening  grooves. 
These  ridges  are  marked  at  short  and  tolerably  regular 
intervals  with  notches  or  short  transverse  furrows,  in  each 
of  which,  about  its  middle,  is  the  minute  funnel-shaped 
orifice  of  the  duct  of  a  sweat-gland.  In  other  parts  of  the 
skin,  endowed  with  less  tactile  sensibility,  the  papillae  are 
broader,  shorter,  few-er  in  number,  and  irregularly  scattered. 
On  the  face,  they  are  reduced  to  from  ^-^o^ti  to  -^o^h  of  an 
inch  ;  and  here  they  at  parts  disappear  altogether,  or  are 
replaced  by  slightly  elevated  reticular  ridges.  Fine  blood- 
vessels enter  most  of  the  papillae,  forming  either  simple 
capillary  loops  in  each,  or  dividing  into  two  or  more  capillary 
branches,  according  to  the  size  of  the  papilla  and  its  simple 
or  composite  form.  Other  papillse  receive  nerves '  (Quain's 
Anatomy, ■[  10th  edition,  p.  415). 

*  'Papilhe  of   the  palm,   the   cuticle,  being   detached.— Magnified   35 
diameters  '  (Todd  and  Bowman). 

t  Inside  the  papillse  are  either  nerves  or  blood-vessels,  seldom  both  ;  and, 
at  their  base,  the  nerves  are  disposed  in  the  form  of  network.  In  great  part 
of  the  skin,  the  nerves  cannot  be  traced  farther  than  this  network  ;  it  is  in  the 
hands,  feet,  lips  (red  part),  and  tongue,  that^they  are  followed  into  the  interior 


THE    PAPILLA.  177 

I  have  quoted  the  description  of  the  papillae  at  length 
because  of  their  connexion  with  the  sensibility  of  the  skin. 
I  shall  refrain  frQin  quoting  the  minute  account  of  the  nails 
and  hairs,  however  interesting  their  structure  in  other 
points  of  view.  Eespecting  the  glands,  it  is  only  necessary 
to  advert  to  the  totally  different  nature  of  the  two  sorts,  as 
respects  the  material  secreted.  Sweat-glands  exist  most 
numerously  in  regions  unprovided  with  hairs,  but  they  occur 
in  all  parts  of  the  skin,  and  may  in  some  cases  open  into 
hair-follicles.  According  to  Krause,  nearly  2800  open  on  a 
square  inch  of  the  palm  of  the  hand,  and  somewhat  fewer  on 
an  equal  extent  of  the  sole  of  the  foot.  He  assigns  rather 
more  than  half  this  number  to  a  square  inch  on  the  back  of 
the  hand,  and  not  quite  so  many  to  an  equal  portion  of 
surface  on  the  forehead,  and  the  front  and  sides  of  the  neck. 
On  the  breast,  abdomen,  and  forearm,  he  reckons  about 
1100  to  the  inch;  while,  on  the  lower  limbs  and  the  back  part 
of  the  neck  and  trunk,  the  number  in  the  same  space  is  not 
more  than  from  400  to  600. 

The  Sebaceous  or  oil  glands  are  small  saccular  glands, 
which  pour  out  their  secretion  at  the  roots  of  the  hairs  ;  for, 
with  very  few  exceptions,  they  open  into  the  hair-follicles, 
and  are  found  wherever  there  are  hairs.     Each  has  a  short 

of  the  papillie.  In  these  parts,  they  end  in  a  peculiar  structure,  linown  as  the 
'  little  bodies  of  touch,'  discovered  by  Wagner  and  Meissner.  These  are  little 
sacks,  covered  by  a  thin  skin,  and  filled  with  a  round  little  mass.  The  skin 
is  pierced  by  one  or  two  nerves,  which  often  wind  spirally,  but  end  by  dividing 
and  spreading  their  twigs  in  the  little  sack.  These  bodies  lie  in  the  interior 
of  papillae  destitute  of  blood-vessels,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  project  far  above 
the  upper  end  of  the  papillae,  and  in  immediate  contact  with  the  cuticle. 
They  are  most  numerous  on  the  inside  of  the  finger  tips,  and  decrease  toward 
the  palm  ;  the  same  happens  with  the  foot.  Meissner  found  in  a  square  line 
(tt¥  o^  ^  square  inch)  on  the  index  finger,  108  on  the  last  joint,  40  on  the 
second,  15  on  the  first.  In  the  red  part  of  the  lips,  the  papillae  "carrying  nerves 
are  not  distinguishable  from  those  carrying  blood-vessels,  the  same  papilla 
appearing  to  have  both. 

The  little  muscles  discovered  by  Kolliker  in  the  skin,  and  especially  in 
the  glands,  excite  peculiar  movements  as  in  shivering,  the  creeping  sensation, 
etc.  These  are  especiall}'  affected  by  changes  of  temperature,  and  maj'  serve 
to  regxilate  the  supply  of  blood  under  such  changes. 

12 


178  SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 

duct,  which  opens  at  a  little  distance  within  the  mouth  of 
the  saccules,  which,  as  well  as  the  duct,  are  lined  by  epithe- 
lium, usually  charged  with  the  fatty  secretion.  These 
glands  are  lodged  in  the  substance  of  the  corium.  They 
are  usually  placed  on  the  side  to  which  the  hair  slopes,  and 
in  the  angle  formed  by  the  junction  of  the  arrector  pili  with 
the  hair,  so  that,  when  the  muscular  fibres  contract,  they 
tend  to  compress  the  gland.  Several  may  open  into  the  same 
hair- follicle,  and  their  size  is  not  regulated  by  the  magnitude 
of  the  hair.  Thus,  some  of  the  largest  are  connected  w^ith 
the  fine  downy  hairs  on  the  alae  of  the  nose  and  other  parts 
of  the  face,  and  there  they  often  become  unduly  charged 
with  pent-up  secretion. 

4.  With  respect  to  the  functions  and  vital  properties  of 
the  skin  in  general,  I  quote  the  following  summary  : — 

'  The  skin  forms  a  general  external  tegument  to  the  body, 
defining  the  surface,  and  coming  into  relation  with  foreign 
matters  externally,  as  the  mucous  membrane,  with  which  it 
is  continuous  and  in  many  respects  analogous,  does  internally. 
It  is  also  a  vast  emunctory,  by  which  a  large  amount  of  fluid 
is  eliminated  from  the  system,  in  this  also  resembling  certain 
parts  of  the  mucous  membrane.  Under  certain  conditions, 
moreover,  it  performs  the  office  of  an  absorbing  surface  ;  but 
this  function  is  greatly  restricted  by  the  epidermis.  Through- 
out its  whole  extent  the  skin  is  endowed  with  tactile  sensi- 
hilitij,  but  in  very  different  degrees  in  different  parts.  On 
the  skin  of  the  palm  and  fingers,  which  is  largely  supplied 
with  nerves  and  furnished  with  numerous  prominent  papillae, 
the  sense  attains  a  high  degree  of  acuteness ;  and  this 
endowment,  together  with  other  conformable  arrangements 
and  adaptations,  invests  the  human  hand  with  the  character 
of  a  special  organ  of  touch.  A  certain,  though  low  degree  of 
vital  contractility,  seems  also  to  belong  to  the  skin.' 

Of  the  other  parts  sensible  to  Touch,  besides  the  skin — 
namely,  the  tongue  and  mouth, — the  needful  description  has 
been  already  furnished,  under  the  sense  of  Taste. 

The  nerves  of  touch  are  the  sensory  or  posterior  roots  of 


DIFFERENT    CLASSES    OF    SKIX    NERVES.  179 

the  spinal  nerves,  for  the  hmbs  and  trunk,  and  certain  of  the 
cerebral  nerves  (the  fifth  pair),  for  the  head,  face,  mouth,  and 
tongue.* 

Before  distinguishing  and  classifying  the  various  modes 
of  tactile  sensibility,  it  is  expedient  to  consider  the  bearings 
of  observations  that  have  been  made  as  to  the  different  kinds 
of  nerves  distributed  to  the  skin.  It  seemed  at  one  time  not 
unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  same  class  of  nerves  might 
convey  to  the  brain  all  the  various  modes  of  impressing  the 
skin  by  external  agents  ;  as,  for  example,  pressure,  tem- 
perature, pleasure  and  pain.  The  difference  of  the  mode  of 
action  in  mere  pressure,  and  in  heat  or  cold,  is  not  such 
as  apparently  to  disqualify  one  set  of  nerves  from  embodying 
and  transmitting  the  effect  to  the  brain,  any  more  than  the 
variations  of  one  of  these  several  modes.  It  is  equally 
difficult  to  explain  the  mode  of  analyzing  the  various  lines  of 
transmission  in  the  brain  itself,  whether  there  be  only  one  or 
more  than  one  class  of  nerves  employed. 

It  is  a  considerable  time  since  the  suggestion  was  made 
that  we  have  a  distinct  class  of  nerves  for  temperature, — that 
is,  for  heat  and  cold.  Observations  and  experiments  in  favour 
of  this  distinctness  have  been  frequently  adduced.  The  point 
is  a  purely  matter-of-fact  determination,  and  not  one  of  a 
jjriori  ■  or  theoretical  probability  or  improbabilit}'.  As  to 
subjectivit}',  our  description  of  the  actual  feelings  of  tem- 
perature would  remain  the  same  whatever  might  be  the 
conclusion  come  to  on  this  head.  Still,  it  is  not  uninterest- 
ing to  be  able  to  satisfy  ourselves  as  to  the  paths  whereby 
impressions  of  temperature  find  access  to  the  brain. 

The  conclusions  now  come  to  by  physiological  research 
depend  upon  a  special  mode  of  experimentation,  called 
'  the  punctiform  method  of  exploring  the  sensitiveness  of 
the  skin  '.     By  this  method,  not  only  is  confirmation  given 

*  It  is  supposed  that  the  important  nerves  of  touch  in  the  extremities 
have  a  different  course  in  the  hrain  from  the  nerves  of  the  trunk.  Tiirk  has 
shown  that  in  the  hand  and  in  the  foot  the  same  spot  is  supplied  from  dif- 
ferent roots  in  the  spinal  cord. 


180  SENSE    OF   TOUCH. 

to  the  distinctiveness  of  nerves  of  temperature,  but  the 
further  result  has  been  reached  that  the  same  fibres  are  not 
ahke  available  for  heat  and  for  cold  :  a  result  not  altogether 
free  from  the  air  of  paradox  ;  nevertheless,  if  sufficiently 
attested,  we  are  bound  to  accept  it.  Any  difficulty  of  a 
psychological  nature  that  might  arise  would  land  in  the 
embroilment  of  our  usual  views  of  relativity  or  contrast. 

This  is  not  all.  The  employment  of  the  same  method  is 
looked  upon  as  revealing  still  another  class  of  distinct  nerves, — 
namely,  nerves  of  pure  Pain.  The  meaning  is,  that  the  nerves 
of  pressure  and  of  temperature,  while  revealing  those  charac- 
teristic sensibilities,  present  them  to  our  consciousness  more 
as  intellectually  distinct  sensibilities  than  as  the  media  of 
our  pronounced  states  of  pain  and  pleasure.  In  fact,  when 
those  sensibilities,  through  intensit}^  of  stimulation,  are 
made  to  yield  decided  forms  of  pain  or  pleasure,  another  set 
of  nerves  is  brought  into  play :  the  appropriate  nerves  declining 
the  task  of  conveying  a  sensibility  involving  so  important  an 
addition  to  their  own  characteristic  function.  Here,  too,  we 
must  admit  something  of  the  nature  of  paradox.  The  psycho- 
logical estimate  of  our  tactile  sensations  must  still  rest  upon 
our  subjective  experience  ;  yet,  the  manner  of  conveying  to 
the  brain  the  different  effects  of  the  agencies  of  touch  cannot 
fail  to  influence  our  views  and  our  language  as  dictated  by 
subjective  analj^sis. 

In  handling  this  part  of  the  physiology  of  touch.  Professor 
Foster  has  taken  a  wider  view  of  the  distribution  of  nerves  of 
pain  in  the  body  at  large.  He  regards  these  nerves  as  the  true 
media  of  general  or  common  sensibility,  and,  as  supplied  in  that 
character  to  the  viscera  no  less  than  to  the  skin,  yiekling  to  con- 
sciousness the  painful  sensibilities  accompanying  their  abnormal 
phases  or  times  of  disturbance  or  irritation.  This  generalization 
is  liable  to  various  difficulties.  It  says  nothing  of  common  sensi- 
bility as  organic  pleasure — a  fact  that  cannot  be  excluded  from 
the  consideration  of  either  the  skin  or  the  internal  viscera.  Sen- 
sations of  temperature,  for  example,  are  almost  nothing  if  not 
pleasurable  or  painful.     If  the  proper  nerves  of  temperature  refuse 


SOFT    TOUCH.  181 

to  convey  these  modes,  the  so-cahed  nerves  of  pain  or  common 
sensibihty  must  perform  that  office,  and,  if  so,  are  quite  as  much 
nerves  of  pleasure  as  of  pain.  As  regards  visceral  sensibihty, 
there  seems  every  reason  for  the  course  ah'eady  taken  in  discussing 
Organic  Sensations, — namely,  to  examine  the  different  visceral 
organs  apart,  and  to  describe  the  sensations  of  each  according  to 
the  results  of  our  conscious  examination.  A  certain  character  of 
common  or  general  sensibility  attaching  to  these  sensations  has 
already  been  allowed  for  (see  p.  107),  as  far  as  the  evidence  of 
consciousness  seemed  to  justify. 

5.  We  come  now  to  the  sensations,  or  feelings,  of  Touch; 
vi'hich  are  various  in  kind,  and  have  many  of  them  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  interest,  from  their  bearing  on  the  higher 
operations  of  mind.  In  the  order  of  enmneration,  I  shall 
commence,  as  usual,  (I.")  with  those  having  reference  to 
pleasure  or  pain,  or  that  may  be  called  predominantly 
emotional. 

Sensations  of  Soft  Touch. — Under  this  head,  there  is  a 
great  and  wide-ranging  sensibility,  but  in  its  nature  highly 
complex.  There  is  supposed  the  gentle  contact  of  some 
extended  surface  with  the  skin.  Some  feeling  of  tempera- 
ture usually  concurs,  and  in  favourable  circumstances  en- 
hances the  effect.  Yet,  irrespective  of  agreeable  warmth,  we 
have  experience  of  a  pleasurable  effect,  which  we  attribute 
to  touch  by  itself. 

The  occasions  that  can  be  cited  for  the  pure  case  of  soft 
extended  contact  are  numerous  and  well  known.  From 
various  circumstances,  the  feeling  is  but  little  attended  to; 
yet,  it  may  be  made  a  subject  of  consciousness — in  which  case, 
it  is  nourished  by  the  appropriate  operation  of  the  will.  The 
contact  of  the  soft  clothing  would  necessarily  be  an  example  ; 
and  is  so,  at  the  first  moment  after  assuming  the  ordinary 
dress,  but  insensibility  naturally  follows,  owing  to  the  law  of 
accommodation  to  agencies  that  are  uniform  in  their 
operation. 

It  is,  of  course,  the  nature  of  this  pleasure  to  be  massive 
or  voluminous,  and  not  acute.     It  operates  upon  the  will  in 


182  SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 

presence,  but  takes  little  hold  of  the  intellect  in  absence. 
The  feeling  is  essentially  of  the  vague  kind ;  for  which  reason 
it  resembles  the  other  massive  sensations  of  the  same  class, — 
such  as  gentle  warmth,  its  frequent  accompaniment. 

A  notable  manifestation  of  the  sensibility  is  furnished  by 
the  contact  of  one  part  of  the  naked  body  with  another. 
This,  being  occasional  in  its  occurrence,  mostly  escapes  the 
deadening  influence  of  habituation  or  accommodation.  Hence, 
it  is  perhaps  the  most  marked  instance  of  the  effect,  and  the 
instance  that  most  frequently  rules  the  voluntary  exertions. 
Many  of  our  habitual  attitudes  and  modes  of  outward 
expression  are  regulated  by  this  particular  pleasure.  When 
the  child  puts  its  finger  or  hand  to  its  mouth,  we  infer  either 
a  realized  pleasure  or  a  comforting  sensation  in  pain  or  in 
distress ;  and  this  species  of  contact  of  the  hand  with  the 
parts  of  the  face  is  practised  all  through  life,  seemingly  from 
the  same  motives. 

The  mutual  contact  of  living  animal  bodies  yields  the  complex 
sensation  of  softness  and  warmth;  while,  in  peculiar  circumstances, 
it  induces  much  deeper  sensibihties  fed  through  the  affections  and 
emotions.  The  discussion  of  these  is  out  of  place  at  the  present 
stage. 

There  is  an  anomaly  or  paradox  in  the  working  of  this 
sensibility, — viz.,  the  connexion  of  comparative  slightness  of 
contact  with  the  full  amount  of  realized  sensation.  This, 
however,  is  not  the  only  exception  to  the  general  law  that 
connects  amount  or  degree  of  stimulus  with  amount  of 
feeliug,  as  will  be  seen  again  presently. 

6.  Pungent  and  Painful  Sensations  of  Touch. — When, 
instead  of  a  diffusive  soft  contact,  we  have  an  intense  action 
on  limited  spots,  mere  points,  as  in  th6  stroke  of  a  whip,  a 
sensation  of  smartness  is  produced  very  different  from  the 
above. 

This  is  the  case  that  is  supposed  to  evoke  a  sensation  of 
pain,  pure  and  simple,  employing  for  the  purpose  the  so-called 
specific  nerves  of  pain,  to  the  exclusion  of  those  of  pressure 


PUNGENT   AND   PAINFUL    SENSATIONS.  183 

and  temperature.  It  is,  however,  not  an  instance  of  purel}' 
painful  sensibility  all  through,  like  bitterness  to  taste,  or 
stench  to  smell.  There  is  a  stage  when  pain  is  not  reached, 
and  when  even  a  certain  pleasure  is  derivable  under  the 
designation  of  pungency, — an  effect  attaching  to  all  the  five 
senses,  and  admitting  of  being  delineated  in  its  own  proper 
character  among  our  fundamental  sensibilities  to  pleasure. 
The  condition  already  laid  down  (p.  169)  as  attaching  to  its 
agreeable  mode  is  a  certain  vigour  and  freshness  in  the  sensi- 
tive surface,  as  well  as  in  the  nerves  concerned. 

Certain  of  our  characteristic  and  habitual  expressions  are 
connected  with  this  form  of  skin  pungency,  and,  as  in  the 
case  of  soft  touch,  are  most  frequently  seen  in  assuaging  some 
form  of  pain.  Scratching  the  head,  or  squeezing  and  pinching 
the  hands  or  other  places,  are  well-known  outlets  in  situations 
of  doubt,  difficulty,  or  painful  uncertainty.  For  such  ends,  it 
is  quite  plain  that  we  should  not  resort  to  any  form  of 
sensation  that  would  be  in  itself  an  unqualified  pain. 

After  the  small  margin  of  pleasurable  pungency,  we  reach 
the  properly  painful  stage  of  acute  skin  contacts — from 
which  we  have  a  very  marked  sensibility.  A  common  sub- 
jective character  attaches  to  a  mere  smart  without  permanent 
injury,  and  to  the  various  modes  of  wounding  the  tissue  of 
the  epidermis  and  dermis  by  violent  applications  or  disease  ; 
the  acute  extremes  of  heat  and  cold  being  included. 

According  to  the  usual  method  of  description,  we  may 
say  that  this  is  a  state  of  painful  sensibilit3^  acute  rather  than 
massive,  with  wide-ranging  degree,  from  an  insignificant 
amount  to  the  utmost  pitch  of  human  torture.  Its  operation 
on  the  will  is  correspondingly  great ;  and,  in  its  extreme 
acuteness,  it  has  an  advantage  ni  impressing  the  memory  and 
constituting  a  motive  for  future  avoidance.  Hence  its  wide- 
spread employment  in  the  discipline  of  sensitive  beings. 

7.  Other  Painful  Sematiuns  of  th('  Skin. — Among  these,  I  would 
first  advert  to  the  sensation  of  tickling.  On  this,  Weber 
remarks,  that  the  lips,  the  walls  of  the  nasal  openings,  and 
the  face  generally,  when  touched  with   a  feather,  give   the 


184  SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 

peculiar  sensation  of  tickling,  which  continues  till  the  part 
is  rubbed  by  the  hand.  In  the  nose,  the  irritation  leads  at 
last  to  sneezing.  The  excitation  extends  to  the  ducts  of  the 
glands,  which  pour  out  their  contents,  and  increase  the 
irritation.  The  violent  commotion  produced  by  bodies  in 
contact  with  the  eye  is  of  the  nature  of  tickling  -  accom- 
panied by  a  flow  from  the  glands — and  readily  passes  into 
pain.  Why  some  places  are  liable  to  this  sensation,  and 
others  not,  it  is  diflicult  to  explain.  The  possession  of 
delicate  tactual  discrimination  is  not  necessary  to  the 
effect. 

Here  we  have,  obviously,  a  far  greater  exception  to  the  law 
of  stimulus  than  the  case  of  simple  soft  touch.  The  pain  itself 
is  altogether  peculiar  and  anomalous.  It  cannot  be  ex- 
pressed or  defined  in  terms  of  our  usual  painful  sensibility. 
The  ordinary  cases  of  such  sensibility  that  we  have  to  deal  with 
are  one  or  other  of  the  following  : — -Either  we  have  a  stimulus 
painful  in  its  nature  in  every  degree,  the  pain  increasing  with 
the  degree  ;  or  we  may  have  an  agency  pleasurable  or  else 
indifferent  to  a  certain  extent,  and  then  becoming  painful 
by  injurious  excess,  the  pain  increasing  according  to  the 
excess.  But,  in  the  case  of  tickling,  we  have  the  slightest 
conceivable  stimulus  with  a  violent  form  of  pain,  inspiring 
the  will  to  efforts  of  intense  revulsion  ;  the  slightness  of  the 
stimulus  being  the  condition  of  the  effect.  A  little  extra 
pressure  deadens  the  sensibility  and  passes  into  the  common 
routine  of  sensations  of  pressure. 

The  tickling  of  the  armpit  or  the  soles  of  the  feet  would 
seem  to  awaken  violent  reflex  movements,  apart  from  or 
additional  to  the  operation  of  the  will  consequent  on  the 
subjective  feeling.  The  discomfort  of  these  spasmodic  out- 
bursts may  be  supposed  to  add  to  the  revulsion  caused  by 
the  tickle  ;  but  they  would  not  of  themselves  yield  the  pecu- 
liar agony  of  the  state.  The  experience  is  altogether 
unique  ;  possibly,  a  special  order  of  nerves  may  be  connected 
with  it.  Although  the  sphere  of  sensibility  is  a  narrow  one, 
it  has  outgoings  and  applications  in  the  higher  regions  of 


SENSATIONS    OF    TEMPERATUEE.  185 

intelligence  and  emotion,  as  is  shown  by  the  employment  of 
the  name  in  a  variety  of  situations  that  need  not  here  be 
adverted  to. 

It  is  both  interesting  and  important  to  advert  to  the 
mibroken  continuity  of  sensation  in  skin  contact.  We  have 
reckoned  among  the  pleasures  of  touch  the  soft  extended 
contact,  implying  that  simple  touch  of  a  sufficiently  gentle 
sort  is  intrinsically  grateful.  By  increasing  the  pressure,  the 
pleasure  is  lost ;  but  reappears  for  a  short  range  as  a  different 
species  of  agreeable  sensibility,  whence  it  passes  into  a  mode 
of  pain,  in  steady  proportion  to  the  intensity  of  the  applica- 
tion. We  have  here  a  study  of  the  law  of  stimulus,  w^iich 
is  partly  exemplified  and  partly  contradicted.  Before  com- 
menting further  on  the  case,  we  have  to  allude  to  another 
anomaly  in  connexion  with  the  present  sense. 

The  long-continued  compression  of  the  same  part  of  the 
skin  creates  uneasiness.  So,  the  friction  or  chafing  of  the 
skin,  in  a  short  time  leads  to  discomfort  and  inspires  repug- 
nance. This,  too,  is  a  somewhat  exceptional  form  of  painful 
sensibility,  where  the  effect  is  out  of  proportion  to  the 
mechanical  agency  at  work.  It  does  not  correspond  either  to 
the  normal  varieties  of  skin  pressure,  or  to  the  exception  of 
tickling.  There  is  nothing  gained  by  forcing  it  under  either 
head.  Better  treat  it  as  a  case  apart — the  starting-point  of  a 
wide  reference  in  the  higher  regions  of  the  mmd.  The  pre- 
cise nerves  concerned  might  be  those  of  pressure,  or  else 
those  of  pain, — that  is,  on  the  supposition  that,  wherever  a 
skin  sensation  rises  to  pain,  it  operates  solely  through  the 
class  of  nerves  so  designated. 

Clamminess  is  a  distinct  sensation  arising  from  the  ad- 
hesion of  a  substance  to  the  skin  ;  and  is  an  uneasy  feeling — 
the  uneasiness  being  due  to  some  interruption  of  the  natural 
functions  of  the  part. 

8.  (II.)  Sensations  of  Temperature. — The  feelings  of  heat 
and  cold,  regarded  as  pleasurable  or  painful,  have  been 
noticed  under  the  Organic  Sensations  in  general  (see  p.  134). 

Although  viewed  in  connexion  witli  the  organs  generally. 


186  SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 

undoubtedly  their  chief  seat,  as  a  source  of  pleasure  and  pain, 
no  less  than  of  discriminative  judgments,  is  the  skin. 

It  has  already  been  noted  that  the  consensus  of  physio- 
logical opinion  is  in  favour  of  assigning  a  distinct  class  of 
nerves  to  sensations  of  temperature.  AVhether  these  are  the 
nerves  that  convey  the  pleasurable  or  the  painful  impressions  is 
not  distinctly  stated.  In  fact,  a  certain  ambiguity  rests  upon 
this  part  of  the  hypothesis  of  three  independent  sets  of 
tactile  nerves.  While  it  is  taken  for  granted  that,  in  every 
case  of  pain,  the  nerves  of  pain  are  the  seat,  even  although 
the  sensation  is  merely  an  excessive  stimulus  of  one  of  the 
other  two  classes,  nothing  is  ever  said  as  to  the  localization 
of  pleasurable  sensibility,  although  this  is  a  very  notable 
adjunct  of  heat  in  particular. 

Without  entering  further  into  the  nature  of  heat  and 
cold  as  sources  of  pleasurable  and  painful  sensibility,  having 
already  adverted  to  the  topic  at  sufficient  length,  we  now  pro- 
ceed to  consider  the  bearings  of  these  particular  sensibilities 
upon  our  judgment  of  outward  objects.  As  regards  the  dis- 
crimination of  degrees  of  Temperature,  it  appears  that  we 
are  equally  sensitive  at  high  and  at  low  points  of  the 
thermometer.  According  to  Weber,  we  can  discriminate 
14°  Eeaumur  from  11"4",  as  well  as  30"  from  30*4° ;  and  the 
discrimination  is  all  the  better  by  the  change  being  rapidly 
made.  It  is  also  better  when  the  unequal  temperatures  are 
applied  at  the  same  time  to  contiguous  parts,  than  w^hen 
the  parts  touched  are  remote  from  each  other.  The  sensi- 
tiveness of  different  parts  to  temperature  is  not  solely 
dependent  on  the  abundance  of  nerves  supplied  to  the  part ; 
some  other  circumstance  at  present  miknown  is  in  operation. 
Weber's  graduated  scale  for  heat  is  as  follows  : — Tip  of  the 
tongue,  eyelids,  lips,  neck,  trunk.  In  the  face,  breast,  and 
abdomen,  the  central  parts  are  less  sensitive  than  the  sides. 

The  sensitiveness  is  increased  by  extent  of  surface.  In 
an  experiment  with  dipping  the  finger  into  water  at  32°  B., 
and  the  whole  hand  in  29r,  the  latter  appeared  the  warmer 
of  the  two. 


INTELLECTUAL    SENSATIONS.  187 

It  is  remarked  that,  when  one  part  of  the  body  touches 
another,  the  temperature  being  the  same,  the  part  endowed 
with  the  finer  tactile  power  feels  the  other.  If  the  tem- 
peratures are  different,  the  first  feels  the  second  factually, 
while  the  second  feels  the  temperature  of  the  first.  The 
hand  is  not  felt  factually  by  the  brow,  nor  is  the  coldness  of 
the  brow  felt  by  the  hand. 

It  is  a  singular  fact,  discovered  by  Weber,  in  connexion 
with  the  sense  of  temperature,  that,  when  two  substances  of 
the  same  weight,  but  of  different  temperatures,  are  estimated 
by  the  sense  of  touch  or  of  pressure,  the  colder  appears  the 
heavier.  The  depressing  effect  of  the  cold  chill  upon  the 
mind  may  be  the  explanation.  This  is  somewhat  analogous 
to  the  perversion  of  our  estimate  of  time  by  an  uniisual 
elation  or  depression  of  the  general  mental  tone :  in  the  one 
case,  we  imagine  it  to  pass  rapidly ;  in  the  other,  too  slowly. 

The  feeling  of  temperature  is  an  element  in  many  dis- 
criminations,— as  in  the  distinction  between  stone  and  wood. 

We  pass  now  (III.)  to  the  more  peculiarly  intellectual 
sensations  of  Touch  ;  and,  first,  to  cases  of  Touch  simply. 

9.  (1)  Impressi&ns  of  Distinguishable  Points. — I  have  already 
called  attention  to  the  discriminative  character  of  the  sense 
of  touch,  whereby  it  receives  distinguishable  impressions 
from  the  variously  situated  parts  of  an  extended  surface. 
Very  interesting  differences  in  the  degree  of  this  discrimi- 
nation are  observable  on  different  parts  of  the  surface  of  the 
body,  which  have  been  especially  illustrated  by  the  experi- 
ments of  AVeber. 

'  These  consisted  in  placing  the  two  poiuts  of  a  pair  of  com- 
passes, blunted  with  sealing  wax,  at  different  distances  asunder, 
and  in  various  directions,  upon  different  parts  of  the  skin  of  an 
individual.  It  was  then  found,  that  the  smallest  distance  at 
which  the  contact  can  be  distinguished  to  be  double,  varies  in 
different  parts  between  the  thirty-sixth  of  an  inch  and  three 
inches  ;  and  this  seems  a  happy  ci'iterion  of  the  acuteness  of  the 
sense.  We  recognise  a  double  impression  on  very  sensible  parts 
of  the  skin,  though  the  points  are  very  near  each  other  ;    wliile. 


188  SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 

in  parts  of  less  acute  sensibility,  the  impression  is  of  a  single 
point,  although  they  may  be,  in  reality,  far  asunder. 

'In  many  parts  we  perceive  the  distance  and  situation  of  two 
points  more  distinctly  when  placed  transversely,  than  when 
placed  longitudinally,  and  vice  versa.  For  example,  in  the  middle 
of  the  arm  or  forearm,  points  are  separately  felt  at  a  distance 
of  two  inches,  if  placed  crosswise  ;  but  scarcely  so  at  the  dis- 
tance of  three,  if  directed  lengthwise  to  the  limb. 

'  Two  points,  at  a  fixed  distance  apart,  feel  as  if  more  widely 
separated  when  placed  on  a  very  sensitive  part,  than  when 
touching  a  surface  of  bkxnter  sensibility.  This  may  be  easily 
shown  by  drawing  them  over  regions  differently  endowed ;  they 
will  seem  to  open  as  they  approach  the  parts  acutely  sensible, 
and  vice  versa. 

'  If  contact  be  more  forcibly  made  by  one  of  the  points  than 
by  the  other,  the  feebler  ceases  to  be  distinguished ;  the  stronger 
impression  having  a  tendency  to  obscure  the  weaker,  in  propor- 
tion to  its  excess  of  intensity. 

'  Two  points,  at  a  fixed  distance,  are  distinguished  more 
clearly  when  brought  into  contact  with  surfaces  varying  in 
structure  and  use,  than  when  applied  to  the  same  surface,  as, 
for  example,  on  the  internal  and  external  surface  of  the  lips,  or 
the  front  and  back  of  the  finger. 

'  Of  the  extremities,  the  least  sensitive  parts  are  the  middle 
regions  of  the  chief  segments,  as  in  the  middle  of  the  arm,  fore- 
arm, thigh,  and  leg.  The  convexities  of  the  joints  are  more 
sensible  than  the  concavities. 

'  The  hand  and  foot  gi-eatly  excel  the  arm  and  leg,  and  the 
hand  tlie  foot.  The  palms  and  soles  respectively  excel  the 
opposite  surfaces,  which  last  are  even  surpassed  by  the  lower 
parts  of  the  forearm  and  leg.  On  the  palmar  aspect  of  the 
hand,  the  acuteness  of  the  sense  corresponds  very  accurately 
with  the  development  of  the  rows  of  papillae  ;  and  where  these 
papillae  are  almost  wanting,  as  opposite  the  flexions  of  the  joints, 
it  is  feeble. 

'  The  scalp  has  a  blunter  sensibility  than  any  other  part  of 
the  head,  and  the  neck  does  not  even  equal  the  scalp.  The  skin 
of  the  face  is  more  and  more  sensible  as  we  approach  the  middle 
line  ;  and  the  tip  of  the  nose  and  red  parts  of  the  lips  are  acutely 


DISTINGUISHABLE    POINTS.  18f> 

SO,  and  only  inferior  to  the  tip  of  the  tongue.  This  last,  in  a 
space  of  a  few  square  lines  (a  line  is  yV  of  an  inch),  exceeds  the 
most  sensitive  parts  of  the  fingers ;  and  points  of  contact  with 
it  may  be  generally  perceived  distinctly  from  one  another,  when 
only  one-third  of  a  line  intervenes  between  them.  [The  superior 
sensibility  of  the  tip  of  the  tongue  to  the  finger,  is  illustrated  by 
the  familiar  observation,  that  a  hole  in  a  tooth  seems  very  much 
exaggerated  when  felt  by  the  tip  of  the  tongue.]  As  we  recede 
from  the  tip  along  the  back  or  sides  of  the  tongue,  we  find  the- 
sense  of  touch  much  duller. 

'  The  sensibility  of  the  surface  of  the  trunk  is  inferior  to  that 
of  the  extremities  or  head.  The  flanks  and  nipples,  which  are 
so  sensitive  to  tickling,  are  comparatively  blunt  in  regard  to  the- 
appreciation  of  the  distance  between  points  of  contact.  Points 
placed  on  opposite  sides  of  the  middle  line,  either  before  or  be- 
hind, are  better  distinguished  than  when  both  are  on  the  same 
side. 

'  The  above  are  the  results  obtained  by  making  the  several 
parts  mere  passive  and  motionless  recipients  of  impressions. 
They  evince  the  precision  of  the  sense  in  so  far  only  as  it  depends 
on  the  organisation  of  the  tactile  surface.  The  augmented  power 
derived  from  change  pi  position  of  the  object  with  regard  to  the 
surface,  is  well  illustrated  by  keeping  the  hand  passive,  while 
the  object  is  made  to  move  rapidly  over  it.  In  this  case  the- 
contact  of  the  two  points  is  separately  perceived,  when  so  close 
that  they  would,  if  stationary,  seem  as  one.  If,  still  further,  the 
fingers  be  made  to  freely  traverse  the  surface  of  an  object,  under 
the  guidance  of  the  mind,  the  appreciation  of  contact  will  be  far 
more  exquisite,  in  proportion  to  the  variety  of  the  movements, 
and  the  attention  given  to  them.  We  are  then  said  to  feel,  or 
to  examine  by  the  sense  of  touch'  (Todd  and  Bowman,  i.  429-30). 


These  observations  of  Weber  have  been  deservedly 
celebrated  by  physiologists,  as  the  foundation  of  an  accurate 
mode  of  estimating  the  tactile  sensibility  of  the  skin.  They 
have  been  extended  by  other  observers,  as  may  be  seen  in 
Dr.  Carpenter's  article  on  Touch  in  the  Cydopccdia  of  An- 
atomy. 


190 


SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 


The  following  is  a  selection  from  Weber's  measurements. 
The  intervals  are  expressed  in  lines,  a  line  being  the  twelfth 
part  of  an  inch.  The  range,  according  to  Weber,  is  from  the 
twenty-fourth  of  an  inch,  in  the  tip  of  the  tongue,  to  two  and  a 
half  inches.  The  range  stated  in  the  text  is  somewhat  greater, 
being  founded  probably  on  a  comparison  of  the  extreme  observa- 
tions of  different  observers  : — 

Tip  of  the  tongue        ..... 

Tip  of  the  forefinger,  palmar  surface  . 

Eed  surface  of  under  lip     . 

Second  joint  of  the  fingers,  palmar  surface 

Last  joint  of  the  fingers,  back  or  dorsal  surface 

Tip  of  the  nose  ...... 

Middle  of  the  back  of  the  tongue 

End  of  the  great  toe  ..... 

Palm  of  the  hand        ..... 

Cheek,  over  the  buccinator 
Lower  part  of  the  forehead 
Back  of  the  hand        ..... 

Crown  of  the  head     ..... 

Thigh,  by  the  knee     ..... 

Upper  and  lower  extremities  of  the  legs 
Breast        ....... 

Back  of  neck  near  occiput .... 

Middle  of  forearm,  middle  of  thigh,  middle  of 

the  back  of  the  neck,  middle  of  the  back      .       30         ,, 

If  the  points  are  placed  within  the  limit  of  doubleness  and  gradu- 
ally separated,  the  interval  that  gives  doubleness  is  greater  than 
in  the  reverse  process. 

The  delicacy  in  our  perception  of  plurality  admits  of  improve- 
ment by  practice,  like  most  other  kinds  of  discrimination.  The 
possibility  of  such  acquisition  would  seem  to  show  that  the 
primitive  sense  of  interval  is  not  physiologically  fixed  by  nerve 
areas,  or  the  number  of  ultimate  filaments  supplied  to  each  spot 
of  doubleness.  As  we  cannot  create  new  filaments,  in  order  to 
narrow  the  interval  of  perceived  doubleness,  there  must  be  some 
other  way  of  viewing  the  process  of  augmented  discrimination. 
This  will  be  taken  up  again,  under  acquired  discrimination  generally. 


i        i 

of  a  line 

1         (^V 

of  an  inch) 

1 

line 

2 

lines 

2 

3 

3 

4 

o 

5 

5 

.       10 

.       14 

.       15 

.       16 

.       18 

.       20 

.       24 

SENSATIONS  OF  PRESSURE.  191 

It  is  important  to  observe,  that  the  primitive  susceptibihty 
to  a  plurahty  of  distinct  points  does  not  enable  us  to 
judge  what  the  real  distance  of  the  points  is  ;  nor  can  we 
tell,  previous  to  experience,  whereabouts  on  the  body  the  im- 
pression is  made.  Hence,  in  those  of  the  experiments  that 
concern  our  sense  of  the  relative  interval  of  the  points,  as 
when  they  pass  from  a  duller  to  a  more  sensitive  region, 
there  are  involved  perceptions  that  we  have  got  at  by  some 
other  means  than  through  the  sense  of  contact.  This  other 
means  is  the  feeling  of  movement  or  the  muscular  sensibility, 
without  which  it  is  impossible  to  comprehend  fully  the  sen- 
sations of  Touch. 

10.  (2)  Sensations  of  Pressure.— ^Se  have  already  noticed 
(p.  183)  the  gradations  of  sensibility  under  varpng  degrees 
of  pressure,  or  skin  compression,  up  to  the  extreme  modes  of 
acute  or  painful  intensity.  The  only  consideration  then 
taken  into  account  was  the  production  of  pleasure  or  pain. 
Degrees  of  pressure  are  now  to  be  viewed  in  another  light, — 
VIZ.,  as  discriminated  in  amount,  with  a  view  to  measure 
the  outward  stimulating  agency.  This  discrimination  may 
go  along  with  a  certain  amount  of  pleasurable  or  painful 
feeling,  or  with  the  absence  of  such  feeling  from  the  con- 
sciousness. The  mere  circumstance  of  solid  contact  with 
the  skin  is  a  mark  of  so  much  mechanical  force,  and  both 
suggests  that  fact  and  measures  its  amount. 

Only  experience  can  tell  what  is  the  degree  of  delicacy 
of  this  special  discrimination.  The  determination  of  the 
degrees  of  forcible  contact  with  the  skin  is,  in  actual  practice, 
mixed  or  compound ;  that  is  to  say,  another  sensibility 
shares  in  the  operation, — namely,  the  muscular, — and  is  found 
to  be  the  more  effectual  of  the  two.  This  last  can  be  with- 
held from  co-operating  by  pressing  upon  a  limb  artificially 
supported  so  as  to  remove  the  play  of  the  muscles.  Thus, 
when  the  hand  lies  on  the  table,  the  effect  is  one  of  pressure 
solely.  The  most  sensitive  parts,  as  the  tips  of  the  fingers, 
can  distinguish  20  oz.  from  19"2  oz.  ;  the  forearm  dis- 
tinguishes 20  oz.  from  18'7  oz.     The  interval  of  time  affects 


192  SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 

the  discrimination,  as  we  might  suppose.  The  difference 
between  14,  or  even  14'5,  could  be  distincruished  from  15, 
within  30  seconds ;  4  and  5  could  be  distinguished  within  90 
seconds. 

The  discrimination  of  pressure  does  not  increase  propor- 
tionably  with  the  supply  of  tactile  nerves. 

11,  (IV.)  Sensations  of  Touch  Involving  Muscular  Perceptions. 
— In  discussing  these,  we  shall  begin  with  examples  that 
are  almost  purely  muscular,  the  tactile  sensibility  being  a 
mere  incident  of  the  situation.  The  feeling  oiiceight  is  of 
this  description  ;  depending  on  the  sense  of  muscular 
exertion,  although  capable  also  of  being  estimated,  to  some 
extent,  by  the  feeling  of  compression  of  the  skin.  On  this 
last  point,  I  add  some  further  illustrations  from  Messrs. 
Todd  and  Bow^man.  'Weber  performed  experiments  to 
ascertain  how  far  we  are  capable  of  judging  of  weight  by  the 
mere  sense  of  contact  [without  muscularity] .  He  found 
that  when  two  equal  weights,  every  way  similar,  are  placed 
on  corresponding  parts  of  the  skin,  we  may  add  to,  or 
subtract  from  one  of  them  a  certain  quantity  without  the 
person  being  able  to  appreciate  the  change  ;  and  that  when 
the  parts  bearing  the  weights,  as  the  hands,  are  inactively 
resting  upon  a  table,  a  much  greater  alteration  may  be  made 
in  the  relative  amount  of  the  weights  without  his  perceiving 
it,  than  when  the  same  parts  are  allowed  free  motion.  For 
example,  32  ounces  may  thus  be  altered  by  from  8  to  12, 
when  the  hand  is  motionless  and  supported ;  but  only  by 
from  1\  to  4,  when  the  muscles  are  in  action ;  and  this 
difference  is  in  spite  of  the  greater  surface  affected  (by  the 
counter  pressure  against  the  support)  in  the  former  than  in 
the  latter  case.  Weber  infers  that  the  measure  of  weight 
by  the  mere  touch  of  the  skin  is  more  than  doubled  by  the 
play  of  the  muscles.  We  believe  this  estimate  to  be  rather 
under  than  over  the  mark  '  (p.  431). 

That  the  discriminating  sensibility  of  the  skin  to  degrees 
of  compression  may  operate  in  appreciating  weight  is  further 
confirmed  by  the  following  statement.     '  The  relative  power 


RESISTANCE.  193 

of  different  parts  to  estimate  weight  corresponds  very  nearly 
with  their  relative  capacities  of  touch.  Weber  discovered 
that  the  lips  are  better  estimators  of  weight  than  any  other 
part,  as  we  might  have  anticipated  by  their  delicate  sense  of 
touch  and  their  extreme  mobility.  The  fingers  and  toes  are 
also  very  delicate  instruments  of  this  description.  The 
palms  and  soles  possess  this  power  in  a  very  remarkable 
degree,  especially  over  the  heads  of  the  metacarpal  and 
metatarsal  bones  ;  while  the  back,  occiput,  thorax,  abdomen, 
shoulders,  arms,  and  legs,  have  very  little  capacity  of  esti- 
mating weight'  {ih.,  p.  432). 

What  is  said  of  weight  applies  to  any  other  form  of 
pressure,  force,  or  resistance.  The  impetus  of  a  push  or  a 
squeeze  received  on  the  hand  is  measured  by  the  muscular 
exertion  induced  to  meet  it,  and,  in  some  small  degree,  as 
already  described,  by  the  compression  of  the  skin  and  other 
parts  at  the  place  of  contact. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  we  could  derive  our 
original  feeling  of  resistance,  with  its  reference  to  the 
object  world,  by  mere  tactile  sensibility  through  pressure. 
The  sense  of  resistance  is  primarily  the  feeling  of  expended 
energy.  When  the  notion  is  once  formed,  we  can  remark 
that  the  degrees  of  resistance  coincide  with  degrees  of  the 
tactile  sensibility  to  pressure  ;  and,  hence,  the  passive  feeling 
can  suggest  the  active,  and  become  a  criterion  of  its 
amount. 

The  qualities  of  hardness  and  softness  are  appreciated  by 

this  combined  sensibility  :  the  one  means  a  greater  resistance 

to  compression,  and  the  other  a  less.     From  the  unj'ielding 

stone  or  metal  to  the  mobility  of  the  liquid  state,  we  have 

all  degrees  of  this  property  ;  the  entire  class  of  soft,  viscous, 

and  fibrous  substances  lying  between.    It  belongs  to  various 

manual  arts  to  appreciate  minute  differences  of  consistence 

in  the  class  of  soft  bodies  ;  the  pastry-cook,  the  builder,  the 

sculptor,  etc.     In  this,  they  are  assisted  by  practice,  which 

improves  all   sensibilities  ;   but  there  are  great  varieties  of 

natural  endowment  in  the  case,  which  varieties  must  have 

13 


194  SENSE    OF   TOUCH. 

their  seat  principally  in  the  muscular  tissue,  and  only  second- 
arily in  the  skin  and  nerves  of  the  hand. 

The  feeling  of  elasticity  is  a  case  of  simple  resistance  to 
force,  exerted  in  the  particular  circumstance  of  a  rebound 
or  increasing  reaction  from  pressure.  The  elasticity  implies 
a  perfect  return  to  the  original  position.  Air  is  elastic  : 
so  is  a  steel  spring ;  meaning  that,  when  in  any  way  com- 
pressed or  distorted,  it  recovers  itself. 

We  may,  next,  consider  the  sensations  arising  from  the 
qualities  of  roughness  and  smoothness.  Simple  contact,  we 
have  seen,  gives  the  sense  of  a  multiplicity  of  points.  The 
finger  resting  on  the  end  of  a  brush  makes  us  aware  of  the 
character  of  the  brush  ;  that  is,  we  have  the  feeling  of  a 
plurality  of  pricks.  In  this  way,  we  are  sensitive  to  rough 
and  pointed  surfaces.  AVe  can  distinguish  between  bluntly- 
pointed  asperities,  like  a  file,  and  sharp  points,  like  a  horse- 
comb  ;  the  sensibility  arising  from  a  blunt  point  being 
distinct  from  that  of  a  needle-prick.  We  can  also  dis- 
tinguish between  thick-set  points  and  such  as  are  more 
scattered,  provided  they  are  not  too  close  for  the  limits  of 
sensibility  of  the  part, — that  is  to  say,  one-twelfth  of  an 
inch  for  the  finger,  and  one-twenty-fourth  to  one-thirtieth 
for  the  tip  of  the  tongue.  On  the  back,  the  calf  of  the  leg, 
and  the  middle  of  the  forearm,  where  points  are  confounded 
up  to  the  distance  of  tw^o  and  a  half  to  three  inches,  rough- 
ness would  be  altogether  imperceptible. 

In  these  instances,  the  thing  touched  is  supposed  to  lie 
at  rest  on  the  finger,  or  on  the  part  touched.  But  this  does 
not  do  full  justice  to  the  tactile  sensibility :  we  should  move 
the  finger  to  and  fro  over  the  surface,  in  order  to  try  to  the 
utmost  the  power  of  discrimination.  We  may  thus  dis- 
criminate far  nicer  shades  of  roughness ;  we  may  appreciate 
minuter  intervals  than  in  the  resting  position.  Supposing 
the  sensibility  of  the  tip  of  the  finger  at  rest  to  be  one  line, 
by  motion  we  can  extend  this  sensibility  to  an  unknown 
limit.  The  case  may  be  illustrated  by  the  micrometer 
screw  on   an  astronomical  instrument.       The   divisions  on 


ROUGHNESS  AND  SMOOTHNESS.  195 

the  limb  of  the  instrument  extend,  we  may  suppose,  to  one 
minute  of  a  degree ;  and  if  the  index  he  between  two  divis- 
ions, its  place  can  be  measured  by  the  number  of  turns  of 
the  screw  required  to  bring  it  up  to  one  of  the  divisions. 
So,  if  a  point  is  undistinguished  on  the  finger,  in  conse- 
quence of  not  being  a  line  removed  from  the  neighbouring 
point,  we  may  estimate  its  distance,  nevertheless,  by  the 
amount  of  motion  of  the  finger  needed  to  bring  it  into  the 
limit  of  sensibility.  I  will  take  as  an  example  a  row  of  five 
points,  one-fortieth  of  an  inch  apart,  the  extremes  being 
one-tenth,  which  is  the  sensibility  of  the  tip  of  the  finger. 
This  row  would  be  felt  as  two  points  if  the  finger  were 
stationary.  But,  by  the  motion  of  the  finger,  one  point 
would  pass  away  and  another  would  come  up,  and  there 
would  be  a  feeling  of  the  interval  moved  over  between  the 
perception  of  the  successive  points,  which  would  be  a 
measure  of  the  intervals.  The  sense  of  movement  would 
thus  be  brought  in  to  aid  the  tactile  feeline;,  and  to  reveal 
a  degree  of  closeness  in  asperities  beyond  the  reach  of  touch 
unassisted  by  motion.  It  is  consistent  with  all  experience, 
that  the  roughness  of"  a  surface  becomes  far  more  apparent 
by  drawing  the  hand  over  it.  We  must,  however,  further 
consider  that  friction  creates  a  new  variety  of  pressure  on 
the  skin  and  nerves ;  and  the  kind  of  friction  is  so  different 
for  a  smooth  and  for  a  rough  body,  that  by  it  alone  we 
might  learn  to  distinguish  between  the  rough  and  smooth 
contact.  The  chafing  action  formerly  adverted  to  as  a 
mode  of  painful  skin  sensibility  possesses  a  certain  delicacy 
of  discrimination  of  amount,  which  avails  as  an  estimate  of 
surface  asperity  in  the  object  causing  it. 

Whatever  may  be  the  explanation  of  the  increase  of 
sensibility  due  to  movement,  the  fact  is  an  important  one. 
A  large  amount  of  discrimination  turns  upon  it.  From  the 
variety  of  trace  made  by  different  kinds  of  surface,  we  can 
distinguish  them  or  identify  them  at  pleasure,  up  to  a  con- 
siderable limit  of  delicacy.  Hence  the  power  of  telling 
substances  by  the  touch,  and  of  deciding  on  the  qualities  and 


196  SENSE    OF   TOUCH. 

merits  of  texture  and  of  workmanship.  Degrees  of  polish  in 
stone,  metal,  or  wood,  the  fineness  of  cloths,  wool,  etc.,  the 
beat  of  a  pulse,  the  quality  of  powdered  substances,  and 
many  things  besides,  are  matters  of  judgment  and  compari- 
son to  the  touch,  and  put  to  the  proof  its  natural  or  ac- 
quired delicacy. 

These  tactile  sensations,  whereby  surfaces  are  discrimi- 
nated, have  a  great  degree  of  persistence  in  the  recollection  ; 
something  intermediate  between  tastes  or  smells,  and  sights. 
We  do  not  revel  in  them  as  imagery,  it  is  true  ;  but  this 
would  be  accounted  for  by  the  superior  hold  that  we  have 
of  the  very  same  objects  by  means  of  sight.  AYiththe  blind, 
the  case  is  diiferent.  To  them,  the  outer  world  must  be  re- 
presented as  outspread  matters  of  contact  ;  their  notions  of 
the  surfaces  of  all  things  are  notions  of  touch. 

Our  permanent  impressions  of  touch  serve  us  for  com- 
paring present  surfaces  with  remembered  ones,  and  for 
identifpng  or  distinguishing  the  successive  objects  that 
come  before  the  view.  The  cloth  dealer  is  aware  whether 
a  given  specimen  corresponds  with  another  piece  that  passed 
through  his  hands  a  week  ago,  or  with  a  permanent  standard 
impressed  upon  his  finger  sensibility. 

12.  Qualities  of  Extension,  Size,  Form,  etc.^I  have  endea- 
voured to  show,  in  the  previous  chapter  (p.  93),  that  these 
qualities  are  impressed  upon  us  by  the  movements  they 
cause,  and  that  the  feelings  they  produce  are  feelings  of 
movement  or  muscularity.  It  is  now  to  be  seen  how  far 
the  sense  of  Touch  proper  enters  into  our  notions  of  the 
fundamental  property  of  the  Object  world,  namely.  Exten- 
sion, of  which  Distance,  Direction,  Position,  and  Form  are 
only  special  modes  or  applications. 

When  we  examine  closely  the  sensibilities  obtained  by 
movement  alone,  as  by  passing  the  arm  to  and  fro  in  empty 
space,  we  find  that  these  have  various  shortcomings  as 
regards  the  idea  of  extended  matter,  or  extended  space. 

In  the  first  place,  the  absence  of  some  definite  marks,  to 
indicate  the  commencement  and  the  termination  of  a  mus- 


EXTENSION.  197 

cular  sweep,  leaves  a  certain  vagueness  in  our  feeling  of 
mere  movement.  The  feelings  of  putting  forth  power,  and 
of  this  power  taking  the  form  of  movement  as  distinct  from 
dead  strain,  are  present  in  all  cases  ;  but  the  mind  is  more 
alive  to  them  when  some  definite  impression  marks  where 
we  begin  and  where  we  cease.  Now,  the  sense  of  touch 
supplies  this  impression,  and  furnishes,  as  it  were,  a  call  to 
attention.  Let  us  suppose  the  hand  moving  between  two 
fixed  obstacles, — for  example,  from  one  side  of  a  box  to  another. 
There  is,  to  commence  with,  the  contact  with  one  side  of  the 
box  felt  more  or  less  as  a  sense  of  touch,  pressure,  and  re- 
sistance (a  feeling  partly  muscular,  but  this  need  not  be 
considered)  :  the  abrupt  departure  from  this  state  is  a 
mark  in  consciousness,  a  call  to  attention ;  and  the  mind  is 
awakened  to  the  feeling  of  movement  that  follows.  After 
a  time,  the  other  side  is  struck,  and  the  mind  is  again  roused, 
and  takes  note  of  the  cessation  of  the  movement.  The 
antithesis  of  resisting  matter  and  unresisted  movement  is 
well  brought  out  by  such  an  experience  ;  there  is  in  it  some- 
thing more  than  the  contrast  of  the  swing  of  a  limb  with  its 
undisturbed  quiescence,  which  is  all  that  movement  in  vacuo 
can  give  us. 

In  the  next  place,  when  the  hand  is  moved  over  a 
surface,  touching  it  the  while,  the  feeling  of  continuance  of 
movement  is  accompanied  by  a  feeling  of  continuance  of 
tactile  sensation,  making  the  consciousness  more  marked 
and  acute,  and  so  enabling  us  to  estimate  the  degree  of  con- 
tinuance more  nicely.  A  feeling  of  the  subject  (touch  proper) 
is  superadded  to  the  great  object  sensibility  (expended  energy 
as  movement),  and  deepens  the  impress  of  that  sensibility, 
without  being  able  to  take  its  place,  or  to  constitute  the 
feeling  of  objectivity.  The  peculiar  tactile  sensation  that 
friction  causes  is  thus  a  means  of  suggesting  extension  and 
of  estimating  it,  although  incompetent  to  supply  the  notion 
itself. 

In  the  third  place,  movement  in  vacuo  seems  unable  to 
indicate  that  distinction  between  Succession  and  Co-exist- 


198  '  SENSE    OF   TOUCH. 

ence — Time  and  Space — which  must  be  arrived  at  before  we 
can  say  that  we  recognize  Extension.  The  continuance  of 
movement  is  a  fact  that  we  are  conscious  of;  in  other  words, 
we  are  conscious  of  a  pecuhar  mode  of  the  putting  forth  of 
energy  which  varies  in  degree,  and  we  remark  one  move- 
ment as  different  from  another  on  this  point.  But,  if  any 
property  of  things  is  indicated  by  this,  it  would  seem  to  be, 
not  space,  but  time.  In  truth,  neither  is  known;  for,  they 
are  a  correlative  couple,  not  known  at  all  till  they  are  known 
together. 

Now,  we  are  able  to  show  how  the  embodying  of  our 
movements  in  sensation  enables  us  to  distinguish  between 
the  two  facts  or  properties  called  the  Co-existing  and  the 
Successive. 

When,  with  the  hand,  we  grasp  something  moving,  and 
move  with  it,  we  have  a  sensation  of  one  unchanged  contact 
and  pressure,  and  the  sensation  is  embedded  in  a  movement. 
This  is  one  experience.  When  we  move  the  hand  over  a 
fixed  surface,  v/e  have,  with  the  feelings  of  movement,  a 
succession  of  feelings  of  touch  ;  if  the  surface  is  a  variable 
one,  the  sensations  are  constantly  changing,  so  that  we  can 
be  under  no  mistake  as  to  our  passing  through  a  series  of 
tactile  impressions.  This  is  another  experience,  and  differs 
from  the  first,  not  in  the  sense  of  power,  but  in  the  tactile 
accompaniment.  The  difference,  however,  is  of  vital  im- 
portance. In  the  one  case,  we  have  an  object  moving,  and 
measuring  time  or  continuance  ;  in  the  other  case,  we  have 
co-existence  in  space.  The  co-existence  is  still  further  made 
apparent  by  our  reversing  the  movement,  and  thereby  en- 
countering the  tactile  series  in  the  inverse  order.  Moreover, 
the  serial  order  is  unchanged  by  the  rapidity  of  our  own 
movements.  A  more  rapid  pass  of  the  hand  makes  the  series 
come  up  quicker ;  a  less  rapid  brings  the  same  series  in 
more  slowly.  By  these  experiences,  we  gradually  become 
aware  of  a  wide  distinction  between  identical  movements 
conducted  under  such  different  circumstances  ;  and  the  dis- 
tinction   is   expressed    in    language   as    succession   and    co- 


CO-EXISTENCE    AND    SUCCESSION.  199 

existence — time  and  space.  Succession  is  the  simpler  of  the 
two  facts;  an  unvarying  contact,  accompanied  with  a  move- 
ment, is  enough  for  that.  But  co-existence  is  highly  complex. 
The  chief  points  involved  in  it  are  those  now  mentioned, — a 
series  of  contacts,  and  the  inversion  of  the  series  by  an 
inverted  movement.  The  repetition  of  these,  with  the  same 
mental  effects,  constitutes  that  notion  of  permanence,  or  of 
f]xity  of  arrangements,  implied  in  the  object  world,  the 
universe  as  co-existing  in  Space. 

By  drawing  the  hand  over  a  surface,  as,  for  example, 
twelve  inches  of  wire,  we  have  an  impression  of  the  quality  of 
the  surface,  and  also  of  its  length.  On  transferring  the  hand 
to  another  wire  thirty-six  inches  long,  the  increased  sweep 
necessary  to  reach  the  extremity  is  the  feeling  and  the 
measure  of  the  increased  extent.  By  practising  the  arm 
upon  this  last  wire,  we  should  at  last  have  a  fixed  impression 
of  the  sweep  necessary  for  a  yard  of  length,  so  that  we  could 
say  of  any  extended  thing,  whether  it  was  within  or  bej^ond 
this  standard.  Nay,  more,  whenever  anything  brought  up  a 
yard  to  our  recollection,  the  material  of  the  recollection  would 
be  an  arm  impression,  just  as  the  material  of  the  recollection 
of  greeiniess  is  a  visual  impression. 

If  we  pass  from  length  to  two  dimensions, — as,  for  example, 
the  surface  of  a  pane  of  glass, — -we  have  only  a  greater  com- 
plexity of  movement  and  of  the  corresponding  impression. 
Moving  in  one  direction,  we  get  the  length ;  in  the  cross  direc- 
tion, we  bring  other  muscles  into  play,  and  get  an  impression 
of  movement  on  a  different  portion  of  the  moving  system. 
In  this  way,  we  should  have  the  impression  of  a  right  angle, 
or  a  builder's  square.  The  full  impression  of  the  pane  of 
glass  would  arise  through  movements  from  side  to  side  over 
its  whole  length,  or  from  movements  round  the  edge  and 
several  times  across,  such  as  to  leave  behind  the  feeling  of  a 
possibility  of  finding  contact  anywhere  within  certain  limits 
of  length  and  breadth.  In  this  embodiment,  and  in  no  other 
that  I  know  of,  would  an  extended  surface  be  conceived  by 
the  mind  through  muscularity  and  touch.  (The  effect  of 
vision  will  be  afterwards  discussed.) 


'200  SENSE    OF    TOUCH. 

A  cubical  block,  exemplifying  all  the  three  dimensions  of 
solidity,  presents  nothing  radically  new.  An  additional 
direction  is  given  to  the  hand,  and  an  additional  class  of 
muscles  are  brought  to  contribute  to  the  feeling.  The  move- 
ment must  now^  be  over  the  length,  over  the  breadth,  and 
over  the  thickness,  and  the  resulting  impression  will  be  a 
complication  of  the  three  movements.  To  get  a  hold  of  the 
entire  solidity,  it  is  necessary  to  embrace  all  the  surfaces  one 
after  another, — which  makes  the  operation  longer,  and  the 
notion  more  complex  and  more  difficult  to  retain.  But  the 
resulting  impression,  fixed  by  being  repeated,  is  of  the  same 
essential  nature  as  the  notion  of  a  line  or  a  superficies  ;  it  is 
the  possibility,  the  potentiality,  of  finding  surface  in  three 
different  directions  within  given  limits.  A  cubical  block  of 
one  foot  in  the  side  means  that,  commencing  at  an  angle, 
and  going  along  one  edge,  a  foot  range  may  be  gone  over 
before  the  material  ceases  ;  that  the  same  may  then  be  done 
across,  and  also  downwards ;  and  that,  between  every  two 
edges,  there  is  an  extended  resisting  surface. 

The  multiplying  of  points  of  contact,  by  our  having  a 
plurality  of  fingers,  very  much  shortens  the  process  of 
acquiring  notions  of  surface  and  solidity.  In  fact,  we  can,  by 
means  of  this  plurality,  come  to  measure  a  length  without 
any  movement ;  the  degree  of  separation  of  the  fingers,  made 
sensible  by  the  tension  of  their  muscles,  being  enough.  Thus, 
I  can  appreciate  a  distance  of  six  or  eight  inches  by  stretching 
the  thumb  away  from  the  fingers,  as  in  the  span  of  the  hand. 
By  keeping  the  fingers  expanded  in  this  way,  so  as  to  enj brace 
the  breadth  of  an  object,  and  then  drawing  the  hand  along 
the  length,  I  can  appreciate  a  surface  by  a  single  motion 
combined  with  this  fixed  span  of  the  thumb  and  fingers.  I 
may  go  even  farther.  By  bringing  the  flexibility  of  the  thumb 
into  action,  I  can  keep  the  fingers  on  one  surface  and  move 
the  thumb  over  another  side,  so  as  to  have  a  single  impres- 
sion corresponding  to  solidity,  or  to  three  dimensions.  We 
are,  therefore,  not  confined  to  one  form  of  acquiring  the 
notion,  or  to  one  way  of  embodying  it  in  the  recollection ; 


DISTANCE — DIRECTION — SITUATION.  201 

we  have  many  forms,  which  we  come  to  know  are  equivalent 
and  convertible,  so  that  where  we  find  one,  we  can  expect 
another.  But  the  most  perfect  combination  of  perceiving 
organs  is  the  embrace  of  the  two  hands.  The  concurrence 
of  the  impressions  flowing  from  the  two  sides  of  the  body, 
produces  a  remarkably  strong  impression  of  the  solidity  of  a 
solid  object.  The  two  separate,  and  yet  coinciding,  images 
support  one  another,  and  fuse  together  in  such  a  way  as  make 
the  most  vivid  notion  of  solidity  that  we  are  able  to  acquire 
by  means  of  touch.  The  parallel  case  of  the  two  eyes  is 
equally  striking. 

The  notion  of  solidity  thus  acquired  is  complex  ;  being 
obtained  through  a  union  of  touch  and  muscularity,  and 
combining  perception  of  surface  with  perception  of  extended 
form.  Space,  or  unoccupied  extension,  is  movement,  in  vacuo, 
from  one  fixed  point  to  another  :  by  the  inverted  operation, 
and  by  repetition  giving  the  same  contacts,  this  is  considered 
to  mean  extension  (as  opposed  to  mere  sequence  in  time). 
Empty  space  means  the  power  of  movement  without  contact 
or  resistance,  except  at  the  extreme  terms.  Resistance  and 
empty  space  are  correlatives.  In  passing  from  the  sense  of 
the  resisting  to  unresisted  movement,  we  make  the  transition 
that  develops  the  two  cognitions  of  Body  and  of  Space,  under 
the  common  object  property  of  Extension. 

13.  Distance,  direction,  and  situation,  when  estimated  by 
touch,  involve,  in  the  very  same  manner,  the  active  organs  ; 
the  tactile  sensations  merely  furnishing  marks  and  starting- 
points,  like  the  arrows  between  the  chain-lengths  in  land- 
measuring.  Distance  implies  two  fixed  points,  which  the 
touch  can  ascertain  and  identify ;  the  actual  measurement  being 
by  means  of  the  sweep  of  the  hand,  arm,  or  body,  from  the 
one  to  the  other.  Direction  implies  a  standard  of  reference  : 
some  given  movement  must  fix  a  standard  direction  ;  and 
movement,  to  or  from  that,  will  ascertain  any  other.  Our 
own  body  is  the  most  natural  starting-point  in  counting 
direction  ;  from  it,  we  measure  right  and  left,  back  and  fore. 
For  the  up  and  down  direction,  we  have  a  very  impressive 


202  SENSE    OF   TOUCH. 

lead  ;  this  being  the  direction  of  gravity.  When  we  support 
a  weight,  we  are  drawn  downward  ;  when  not  sustaining  the 
arms  by  voluntary  effort,  they  sink  downward  ;  when  our 
support  gives  way,  the  whole  body  moves  downward.  Hence, 
we  soon  gain  an  impression  of  the  downward  movement,  and 
learn  to  recognize  and  distinguish  this  from  all  others.  If  a 
blind  man  is  groping  at  a  pillar,  he  identifies  the  direction 
it  gives  to  his  hand  as  the  falling  or  the  rising  direction. 
Circumstances  do  not,  perhaps,  so  strongly  conspire  to  impress 
the  standard  directions  of  right  and  left  ;  but  there  is  an 
abundant  facility  in  acquiring  them  too.  The  right  deltoid 
muscle  is  the  one  chiefly  concerned  in  drawing  the  right  arm 
up  and  away  from  the  body  ;  and,  without  our  knowing  any- 
thing about  this  muscle,  we  yet  come  to  associate  the  feeling 
of  its  contraction  with  a  movement  away  from  the  body  to 
the  right.  All  directions  that  call  forth  the  play  of  the 
same  muscles,  are  similar  directions  as  respects  the  body  ; 
different  muscles  mean  different  directions.  The  great 
pectoral  bringing  the  arm  forward,  the  deltoid  lifting  it  away 
from  the  side,  the  trapezius  drawing  it  backward,  indicate  to 
our  mind  so  many  different  positions  of  the  guiding  object ; 
and  we  do  not  confound  any  one  with  the  others.  We  learn 
to  follow  the  lead  of  each  of  these  indications ;  we  make  a 
forward  step  to  succeed  the  contraction  of  the  pectoral,  a  step 
to  the  right  the  deltoid,  a  step  backward  the  trapezius. 

Situation,  or  relative  position,  is  known,  if  distance  and 
direction  are  known.  The  idea  of  position  implies  three 
points.  Two  points  might  give  extension ;  but  relative 
position  implies  that  we  pass  from  A  to  B,  from  B  to  C,  and 
from  A  to  C.  Such  movements,  often  repeated,  both  in  the 
direct  and  in  the  inverse  order,  impart  the  idea  of  permanent 
co-existence  in  relative  position,  which  amounts  to  an  expe- 
rience of  Extension.  The  multiplication  of  these  is  the 
enlargement  of  our  education  in  the  co-existing  and  extended, 
from  which,  at  last,  by  an  exercise  of  abstraction,  we  rise  to 
the  notion  of  Space  or  Extension  in  general. 

Form   or  shape  is  determined  by  position.     It  depends 


FORM.  203 

upon  the  course  given  to  the  movements,  in  following  the 
outline  of  a  material  body.  Thus  we  acquire  a  movement 
corresponding  to  a  straight  line,  to  a  ring,  an  oval,  etc. 
This  is  purely  muscular.  The  fixed  impressions  engrained 
upon  the  organs,  in  correspondence  with  these  forms,  have 
a  higher  interest  than  mere  discrimination.  We  are  called 
upon  to  reproduce  them  in  many  operations — in  writing, 
drawing,  modelling,  etc. ;  and  the  faculty  of  doing  so  will 
depend,  in  great  part,  upon  the  hold  that  they  have  taken 
upon  the  muscular  and  nervous  mechanism.  The  suscepti- 
bility to  impressions  necessary  to  draw  or  to  engrave  skilfully, 
and  the  retentiveness  of  them,  are  partly  muscular  endow- 
ments. 

14.  So  much  for  the  qualities  revealed  to  us  by  touch, 
whether  alone  or  in  conjunction  with  movement.  The 
accompaniment  of  activity  belongs  to  every  one  of  the  senses ; 
it  serves  to  bring  about,  or  increase,  the  contact  with  the 
objects  of  the  sense.  There  is,  in  connexion  wdth  each  of 
the  senses,  a  particular  verb,  or  designation,  implying  action: 
to  taste  implies  the  movement  for  bringing  the  substance 
upon  the  tongue ;  to  smell,  or  to  snv,ff,  means  an  active 
inhalation  of  the  odorous  stream  ;  to  feel  signifies  the  move- 
ment of  the  hand  or  other  organ  over  the  surface  in  search 
of  impressions  ;  in  like  manner,  to  hear  and  to  see  are  forms 
of  activity.  In  the  cases  of  taste  and  smell,  the  action  does 
not  contribute  much  to  the  sensation  or  the  knowledge ;  in 
the  three  others  (two  especially),  it  is  a  principal  element; 
since,  in  all  of  them,  direction  and  distance  are  essential  parts 
of  the  information.  Now,  since  movement  is  required  to 
bring  objects  wdthin  reach,  the  value  of  any  of  our  senses 
will  depend  very  greatl5-  upon  the  activity  of  the  organs  that 
carry  the  sensitive  surface, — the  tentacula,  so  to  speak.  This 
activity  grows  out  of  the  muscular  and  nervous  energy  of 
the  frame,  and  not  out  of  the  particular  endowment  of  the 
sensitive  part.  It  is  a  voluntary  exertion,  at  first  spon- 
taneous purely,  always  spontaneous  in  some  degree,  but 
linked   to,  and   guided    bv,   the    sensibilitv-     The   flush    of 


204  SENSE    OF    HEARING. 

activity  lodged  in  the  arm  and  fingers  is  the  first  inspiration 
towards  obtaining  impressions  of  touch  ;  the  Hking  or  dis- 
liking for  the  impressions  themselves  comes  in  to  modify 
and  control  the  central  energy,  and  to  reduce  handling  to  a 
system. 

15.  Touch  being  concerned  in  innumerable  handicraft 
operations,  the  improvement  of  it,  as  a  sense,  enters  largely 
into  our  useful  acquisitions.  The  graduated  application  of 
the  force  of  the  hand  has  to  be  ruled  by  touch ;  as,  in  the 
potter  with  his  clay,  the  turner  at  his  lathe,  the  polisher  of 
stone,  wood,  or  metal,  the  drawing  of  the  stitch  in  sewing, 
baking,  taking  up  measured  quantities  of  material  in  the  hand. 
In  playing  on  finger  instruments,  the  piano,  the  touch 
must  measure  the  stroke  or  pressure  that  will  yield  a  given 
effect  on  the  ear. 

16.  The  observations  made  on  persons  born  blind  have  fur- 
nished a  means  of  judging  how  far  touch  can  be  a  substitute 
for  sight,  both  in  mechanical  and  in  intellectual  operations. 
These  observations  have  shown,  that  there  is  nothing  essen- 
tial to  the  highest  intellectual  processes  of  science  and 
thought  that  may  not  be  attained  in  the  absence  of  sight. 
The  integrity  of  the  moving  apparatus  of  the  frame  renders 
it  possible  to  acquire  the  fundamental  notions  of  space, 
magnitude,  figure,  force,  and  movement,  and,  through  these, 
to  comprehend  the  great  leading  facts  of  the  outer  world  as 
taught  in  mathematical,  mechanical,  or  physical  science. 

17.  The  skin  is  liable  to  feelings  not  produced  by  an 
external  contact,  but  resembling  what  would  arise  from 
and  suggesting  those  particular  agencies  to  the  mind. 
These  are  called  '  subjective  sensations  '.  The  tiugling  of  a 
limb  asleep,  formication,  or  a  sensation  as  of  the  creeping  of 
insects,  heat,  chilliness,  etc.,  are  examples. 

SENSE  OF  HEARING. 

This  sense  is  more  special  and  local  than  the  foregoing, 
but  agrees  with  Touch  in  being  a  mechanical  sense  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  chemical  senses — taste  and  smell. 


THE    EAR.  205 

1.  The  objects  of  hearing  are  material  bodies  in  a  state  of 
tremor,  or  vibration,  brought  on  when  they  are  struck, — which 
vibration  is  communicated  to  the  air  of  the  atmosphere,  and 
is  thereby  propagated  till  it  reach  the  hollow  of  the  ear. 

All  bodies  whatever  are  liable  to  the  state  of  sonorous 
vibration  ;  but  they  differ  very  much  in  the  degree  and  kind 
of  it.  The  metals  are  the  most  powerful  sources  of  sounds — 
as,  for  example,  in  bells  ;  after  metals  come  woods,  stones, 
earthy  bodies.  A  hard  and  elastic  texture  is  the  property 
needed.  Liquids  and  gases  sound  very  little,  unless  impinged 
by  solids.  The  howling  and  rustling  of  the  wind  arise  from 
its  playing  upon  the  earth's  surface,  like  the  yEolian  harp. 
The  thunder  is  an  example  of  a  pure  aerial  sound;  the  effect, 
great  as  it  is,  being  very  small  in  comparison  with  the  mass 
of  air  put  in  agitation. 

It  belongs  to  the  science  of  Acoustics  to  explain  the  pro- 
duction and  propagation  of  sound,  and  the  forms  of  sounding 
instruments  of  all  kinds.  Here  we  are  considering  the 
effects,  and  not  the  instruments  of  sound. 

.2.  The  organ  is  the  Ear.  '  It  is  divisible  into  three  parts 
— the  external  ear,  the  tympanum  or  middle  ear,  and  the 
labyrinth  or  internal  ear  ;  and  of  these,  the  two  first  are 
to  be  considered  as  accessories  to  the  third,  which  is  the 
sentient  portion  of  the  organ.' 

The  external  ear  includes  '  the  pinna — the  part  of  the  outer 
ear  which  projects  from  the  side  of  the  head — and  the  meatus  or 
passage  which  leads  thence  to  the  tympanum,  and  is  closed  at  its 
inner  extremity  by  the  membrane  interposed  between  it  and  the 
middle  ear  (membrana  tympani)'. 

'  The  tympanum,  or  drum,  the  middle  chamber  of  the  ear,  is  a 
narrow  irregular  cavity  in  the  substance  of  the  temporal  bone, 
placed  between  the  inner  end  of  the  external  auditory  canal  and 
the  labyrinth.  It  receives  the  atmospheric  air  from  the  pharynx 
through  the  Eustachian  tube,  and  contains  a  chain  of  small  bones,, 
by  means  of  which  the  vibrations,  communicated  at  the  bottom 
of  the  external  meatus  to  the  membrana  tympani,  are  conveyed 
across  the  cavity  to  the  internal  ear,  the  sentient  part  of  the  organ. 


206  SENSE    OF   HEAEING. 

The  tympanum  contains  likewise  minute  muscles  and  ligaments 
which  belong  to  the  bones  referred  to,  as  well  as  some  nerves 
which  end  within  this  cavity,  or  only  pass  through  it  to  other 
parts.' 

As  to  the  ca\aty  of  the  tympanum,  I  shall  content  myself 
with  quoting  the  description  of  the  principal  boundaries, 
whereby  it  connects  itself  with  the  outer  and  inner  portions 
of  the  ear,  and  which  are,  therefore,  the  main  links  in  the 
line  of  communication  from  without  inwards. 

The  outer  boundary,  formed  by  a  thin  semi-transparent  mem- 
brane, the  niembrana  tympani,  which  may  be  seen  by  looking  into 
the  ear,  '  is  nearly  circular,  and  is  slightly  concave  on  the  outer 
surface.  It  is  inserted  into  a  groove  at  the  end  of  the  passage  of 
the  outer  ear,  and  so  obliquely  that  the  membrane  incUnes  towards 
the  anterior  and  lower  part  of  the  canal  at  an  angle  of  45°.  The 
handle  of  one  of  the  small  bones  of  the  tympanum,  the  malleus, 
descends  between  the  middle  and  inner  layers  of  the  membrane 
to  a  little  below^  its  centre,  and  is  firmly  fixed  to  it ;  and  as  the 
direction  of  the  handle  of  the  bone  is  slightly  inwards,  the  outer 
surface  of  the  membrane  is  thereby  rendered  concave.' 

The  inner  wall  of  the  tympanum,  which  is  formed  by  the  outer 
surface  of  the  internal  ear,  is  very  uneven,  presenting  several 
elevations  and  foramina.  The  foramina  or  openings  are  two  in 
number, — the  oval  foramen  (fenestra  ovalis),  and  the  round  or 
triangular  opening  (fenestra  rotunda).  Both  are  closed  with 
membranes,  which  render  the  inner  ear,  with  its  containing 
liquid,  perfectly  tight.  To  one  of  them,  the  oval  foramen,  a 
small  bone  is  attached ;  the  other,  the  round  foramen,  has 
no  attachment.  These  two  openings  are  the  approaches  to 
the  internal  ear,  and  through  them  lies  the  course  of  the 
sonorous  vibrations  in  their  progress  towards  the  auditory  nerve. 

The  small  bones  of  the  tympanum  are  named  from 
their  appearance  as  follows  (beginning  at  the  outermost)  : 
the  malleus,  or  hammer,  attached  to  the  membrane  of 
the  tympanum ;  the  incus,  or  anvil ;  and  the  stapes,  or 
stirrup,  which  is  fixed  to  the  oval  opening  in  the  inner 
ear,   called   the  fenestra    ovalis.     The   incus  is  thus  inter- 


THE    LABYRINTH. 


207 


mediate  between  the  other  two ;  and  the  result  of  the 
whole  is,  '  a  species  of  angular  and  jointed  connecting 
rod  between  the  outer  and  inner  walls  of  the  tympanic 
cavity,  which  serves  to  communicate  vibrations  from  the 
membrana  tympani  to  the  fluid  contained  in  the  vestibule 
of  the  internal  ear  '. 

There  are  certain  small  muscles  attached  to  those  bones, 
for  the  regulation  of  their  movements. 

The  internal  ear,  or  labyrinth,  '  which  is  the  essential  or 
sensory  part  of  the  organ  of  hearing,  is  contained  in  the  petrous 
portion   of   the    temporal    bone.      It    is   made    up   of   two   very 


Fig.  12.* 
Right   bony   labyrinth,    viewed   from 
the  outer  side  (after  Sommerring). 


Fig.  13.  t 
View  of  the  interior  of  the  left  laby- 
rinth (from  S'Jmmerring). 


"A. 


2?  . 
T" 


*  The  specimen  here  represented  is  prepared  by  separating  piecemeal  the 
looser  substance  of  the  petrous  bone  from  the  dense  walls  which  immediately 
enclose  the  labyrinth : — 1.  The  vestibule.  2.  Fenestra  ovalis.  3.  Superior 
semicircular  canal.  4.  Horizontal  or  external  canal.  5.  Posterior  canal. 
.  .  .  Ampullae  of  the  semicircular  canals.  6.  First  turn  of  the  cochlea.  7. 
Second  turn.  8.  Apex.  9.  Fenestra  rotunda. — The  smaller  figure  in  outline 
below  shows  the  natural  size. 

t  The  bony  wall  of  the  labyrinth  is  removed  superiorly  and  externally : — 
1.  Fovea  hemi-elliptica.  2.  Fovea  hemispherica.  3.  Common  opening  of 
the  superior  and  posterior  semicircular  canals.  4.  Opening  of  the  aqueduct 
of  the  vestibule.  5.  The  superior,  6,  the  posterior,  7,  the  external  semi- 
circular canals.  8.  Spiral  tube  of  the  cochlea  (scala  tympani).  9.  Opening 
of  the  aqueduct  of  the  cochlea.  10.  Placed  on  the  lamina  spiralis  in  the  scala 
vestibuli. 


208  SENSE    OF    HEAEING. 

different  structures,  known  respectively  as  the  osseous  and 
membranous  labyrinth.' 

'  (1)  The  osseous  labyrinth  is  lodged  in  the  cancellated  struc- 
ture of  the  temporal  bone,  and  presents,  when  separated  from 
this,  the  appeai'ance  shown  in  the  enlarged  figure.  It  is  in- 
completely divided  into  three  parts,  named  respectively  the 
vestibule,  the  semicircular  canals,  and  the  cochlea.  They  are 
lined  throughout  by  a  thin  serous  membrane,  which  secretes  a 
clear-fluid. 

'  (2)*^he  memhranous  labyrintli  is  contained  within  the  bony 
labyrinthXand,  being  smaller  than  it,  a  space  intervenes  between 
the  two,  whiq^  is  occupied  with  the  clear  fluid  just  referred  to. 
This  structure  supports  the  numerous  minute  ramifications  of  the 
auditory  nerve,  and  encloses  a  liquid  secretion.' 

The  minute  anatomy  of  these  parts  I  must  pass  over. 
The  vestibule  is  the  central  chamber  of  the  mass,  and  is  the 
portion  of  the  labyrinth  turned  towards  the  tympanum,  and 
containing  the  cavities  of  communic9;tion  already  described. 
The  semicircular  canals  are  three  bony  tubes,  situated  above 
and  behind  the  vestibule,  into  which  they  open  by  five 
apertures ;  each  tube  being  bent,  so  as  to  form  the  greater 
part  of  a  circle.  The  cochlea  is  a  blunt  cone,  having  its 
surface  '  marked  by  a  spiral  groove,  which  gives  to  this  part 
of  the  labyrinth  somewhat  of  the  appearance  of  a  spiral  shell 
— whence  its  name'.  Its  interior  is  a  spiral  canal  divided 
into  two  by  a  thin  partition,  deficient  at  the  apex  of  the 
cochlea.  The  canal  opens  freely  into  the  cavity  of  the 
vestibule. 

'  Within  the  osseous  labyrinth,  and  separated  from  its 
lining  membrane  by  a  liquid  secretion,  is  a  membranous  struc- 
ture, which  serves  to  support  the  ultimate  ramifications  of  the 
auditory  nerve.  In  the  vestibule  and  semicircular  canals,  this 
membrane  has  the  form  of  a  rather  complex  sac,  and  encloses  a 
fluid  called  the  endolymph  ;  in  the  cochlea,  the  analogous  struc- 
ture merely  completes  the  lamina  spiralis  (the  partition  of  the 
cochlea),  and  is  covered  by  the  membrane  which  lines  the 
general  cavity  of  the  osseous  labyrinth.' 


WAVES    OF    SOUND    IN    THE    EAR.  209 

The  labyrinth  is  thus  to  be  considered  as  a  comphcated 
chamber  full  of  liquid,  containing,  also,  a  membranous 
expansion  for  the  distribution  of  the  nerve  of  hearing.  Let 
us,  next,  advert  to  the  action  of  these  different  parts  in 
producing  the  sensations  of  sound. 

3.  The  waves  of  sound  enter  the  passage  of  the  outer  ear, 
and  strike  the  membrane  of  the  tympanum.  The  structure 
of  the  outer  ear  is  adapted  to  collect  and  concentrate  the 
vibrations  like  an  ear-trumpet.  The  form  of  the  shell  gives 
it  a  reflecting  surface  for  directing  the  sound  inwards  ;  while 
the  passage  is  believed  to  increase  their  intensity  by  reson- 
ance. Eeaching  the  membrane  of  the  tympanum,  the  beats 
communicate  themselves  to  its  surface  and  set  it  vibratingf, — 
which  is  done  all  the  more  easily  that  the  membrane  is  very 
thin  and  light  m  its  structure.  Experiments  have  shown, 
that  the  only  means  of  receiving  with  effect  the  vibrations 
of  the  air  is  to  provide  a  thin  stretched  membrane  of  this 
nature.  The  vibrations  of  the  membrane  are  communicated 
to  the  chain  of  small  bones  traversing  the  middle,  ear,  and 
connected  through  the  oval  foramen  with  the  enclosed  liquid 
of  the  inner  ear.  By  these  means,  a  series  of  beats  are 
imparted  to  the  liquid,  which  diffuse  themselves  in  waves 
all  through  the  passages  of  the  labyrinth,  and  operate  b}' 
compressing  the  membranous  labyrinth,  and,  through  it,  the 
embedded  fibres  of  the  auditory  nerve,  which  compressions 
are  the  immediate  antecedent  of  the  sensation  of  hearing. 
The  character  of  the  sensation  will,  of  course,  vary  with  tlie 
character  of  the  waves,  according  as  they  are  violent  or 
feeble,  quick  or  slow,  simple  or  complex,  and  so  forth,    ^k^ 

There  is  little  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  general 
course  of  the  action  now  described.  The  transitions  have 
all  been  imitated  by  experiments,  and  it  has  been  found  that 
the  arrangement  is  a  good  one  for  bringing  about  the  ultimate 
effect,  namely,  the  gentle  compression  of  the  filaments  of  the 
nerve  of  hearing.  No  other  medium  could  serve  the  final 
contact  so  well  as  a  liquid ;  but,  in  order  to  impress  the  liquid 
itself,  an  intermediate  apparatus  between  it  and  the  air  is 

14 


210  SENSE    OF   HEARING. 

requisite.  This  intermediate  apparatus  is  solid,  and  com- 
posed of  two  parts  :  the  first  a  light  expanded  inembrane, 
susceptible  to  the  beats  of  the  air ;  the  second  firm  and  com- 
pact (the  chain  of  bones),  to  produce  a  sufficiently  powerful 
undulation  in  the  liquid.  The  membrane  once  affected  is 
able  to  communicate  vibrations  to  the  bones ;  and  the  last 
of  the  chain,  the  stapes,  is  able  to  impress  the  labyrinthine 
fluid.  So  far  the  process  has  been  rendered  sufficiently 
intelligible. 

The  first  great  difficulty  tliat  meets  us  in  this  action  is  the 
conveyance  of  a  complication  or  plurality  of  sounds  through  a 
single  line  of  communication.  It  is  well  known  that  we  can 
hear,  at  the  same  instant,  a  considerable  number  of  simultaneous 
sounds.  The  power  is  not  absolutely  unlimited  ;  still,  when  we 
are  listening  to  a  full  band,  we  seem  to  be  able  to  take  in  a  very 
marked  plurality  of  sonorous  effects  at  one  and  the  same 
instant  of  time.  Now,  the  chain  of  bones  in  the  middle  ear  is 
equivalent  to  a  single  rod  of  communication.  We  cannot  suppose 
that  there  is  a  subdivision  or  a  plurality  of  lines  in  the  bony  chain ; 
the  whole  must  be  considered  as  simply  one  path  of  transmission. 

The  solution  of  this  difficulty  is  considered  to  be  the  follow- 
ing : — Two  separate  sonorous  waves  striking  the  tympanum  to- 
gether are  fused  into  one  complex  or  compound  wave.  The  chain 
of  bones  in  its  vibration  takes  on  the  character  of  this  compound, 
and  imparts  it  to  the  fluid  of  the  labyrinth,  in  which  it  is  pro- 
pagated in  the  same  form  to  the  sensory  surface  in  contact  with 
the  nerve  of  hearing.  The  supposition  of  a  combined  simultane- 
ous sound  may  be  extended  to  a  much  greater  plurality  of  simple 
effects  :  the  resulting  compound  wave  can  accommodate  its  form 
so  as  to  answer  to  very  high  complications. 

The  hypothesis  now  stated  requires  to  be  completed  by  the 
further  assumption  that,  at  some  point  in  the  transmission  of  the 
complex  wave,  a  means  is  found  of  analyzing  or  resolving  the 
complication  into  its  primary  elements  as  they  separately  affected 
the  membrane  of  the  tympanum.  It  is  believed  that  such  an 
apparatus  exists  in  the  membranous  labyrinth,  and,  more  par- 
ticularly, in  the  minute  microscopical  structures  of  the  so-called 
auditory  epithelium — including  the  rods  of  Corti  and  the  adjoin- 


RESOLUTION    OF   THE    COMBINED   WAVE.  211 

ing  hair  cells  in  more  immediate  connexion  with  the  ramifications 
of  the  auditory  nerve.  There  is  experimental  proof  that  such  an 
analysis  of  a  combined  wave  is  a  possible  fact.  What  is  required 
is,  that  certain  parts  of  the  surface  impinged  upon  by  the  complex 
vibration  should  be  so  constituted  as  to  respond  individually  to 
tbe  simple  sounds  and  to  no  others.  In  this  way,  if  we  suppose 
a  structure  made  up  of  such  parts  as  would  give  each  a  response 
to  some  single  item  of  the  complex  wave,  these  parts  would  be 
affected  accordingly,  and  the  separate  reproduction  of  the  original 
elements  would  be  accomplished. 

So  far,  the  matter  appears  plain.  There  still  remains  a  diffi- 
culty that  cannot  at  present  be  surmounted.  The  supposition 
requires,  for  its  complete  fulfilment,  that  there  should  be,  in  the 
auditory  surface,  the  elements  distinctively  susceptible  of  all  the 
various  modes  of  sonorous  pitch  that  the  ear  is  capable  of  dis- 
criminating. When  we  regard  the  mere  number  of  the  elemen- 
tary constituents  of  that  surface — amounting  to  tnany  thousands, 
— the  capability  of  varied  adaptation  to  sounds  may  seem  to  be 
very  great.  What  is  not  so  easy  to  account  for  is  the  structural 
distinctiveness  of  those  minute  rods  and  hair  cells  that  would  be 
required  to  correspond  to  the  whole  range  of  the  musical  scale  of 
(say)  seven  octaves.  This  is  a  problem  for  acoustic  research  ; 
and,  at  present,  the  resources  of  the  science  are  unequal  to  its 
solution.* 

There  are  three  muscles  in  the  interior  of  the  tympanum 
attached  to  the  small  bones.  The  largest,  called  tensor 
tyrrvpani,  is  inserted  in  the  malleus,  and  its  direction  is  such 

*  The  Edison  Phonograph  demonstrates  how  the  utmost  complexity  of 
sonorous  vibrations  may  be  transmitted  by  a  rigid  needle,  registered  on  wax 
in  a  linear  tracing  of  ever-varying  depth  and  lateral  direction  ;  and  then 
reproduced  by  a  reversal  of  the  steps  taken  in  making  the  first  record.  A 
line  is  thus  capable  of  recording  the  resultant  of  the  diaphragm's  (or  drum) 
vibrations.  This  would  justify  one  in  suggesting  that  the  resultant  com- 
municated to  the  endolymph  through  the  rigid  chain  of  bones  may  be  equally 
simple,  the  direction  of  the  liquid  vibrations  affecting  the  nerve  endings  in 
special  ways.  It  is  thus  conceivable  that  the  enormous  complexity  of 
orchestral  sounds  is  reduced  to  a  simple  resultant,  before  affecting  the  auditory 
nerves  at  all.  The  problem  of  structural  complexity  in  the  ear  would  then 
reduce  itself  to  accounting  for  the  reception  and  selection  of  stimuli  that  vary, 
not  in  complexity,  but  in  intensity  and  direction. 


212  SENSE    OF   HEAEING. 

as  to  draw  inwards,  and  tighten  the  membrane  of  the  tym- 
panum. The  second,  kuxdor  tympani,  also  inserted  in  the 
malleus,  is  supposed  to  have  the  action  indicated  by  the 
name ;  but  its  muscular  character  has  been  doubted  :  the 
membrane  of  the  tympanum  would  relax  by  mere  elasticity, 
when  the  action  of  the  tensor  muscle  is  remitted.  The 
third  mus-cle  is  the  stapedius,  attached  to  the  stapes,  and 
seeming  to  govern  the  contact  of  that  bone  with  the  mem- 
brane of  the  oval  foramen ;  the  tensor  tympani  concurring 
with  it  to  tighten  the  membrane. 

It  has  not  been  fully  ascertained  on  what  occasions  and 
with  what  effect  the  tensor  tympani  is  brought  into  play. 
The  only  distinct  observation  on  the  matter  is  that  made 
by  Wollaston, — namely,  that,  when  the  membrane  of  the 
tympanum  is.  stretched,  the  ear  is  rendered  less  sensible  to 
grave  sounds,  such  as  the  deep  notes  of  the  organ,  or  the 
sounds  of  thunder  and  cannon.  If,  therefore,  the  ear  is 
exposed  to  very  intense  sounds  of  the  deep  kind,  such  as 
the  firing  of  artillery,  the  tensor  tympani  coming  into  play 
would  in  some  measure  deaden  the  effect.  The  action 
would  make  little  or  no  difference  to  the  hearing  of  acute 
somids,  such  as  the  sharp  notes  of  a  call-whistle.  Probably, 
these  muscles  are  excited  by  the  reflex  action  of  the  sounds ; 
possibly,  also,  they  may  be  of  the  voluntary  class, — that  is, 
they  may  come  into  play  in  the  voluntary  acts  of  listening 
and  of  preparing  the  ear  to  resist  loud  sounds.  The  only 
circumstance  assignable  as  determining  the  reflex  action  of 
the  tensor  tympani  is  simply  the  intensity  of  the  sound. 
We  may  suppose  that  every  sound  whatever  brings  on  a 
reflex  action  to  stretch  the  membrane,  and  the  stronger 
the  sound  the  greater  the  action.  When  sounds  are  too 
loud  and  of  the  grave  kind,  this  tension  mitigates  them; 
when  too  loud  and  acute,  it  either  has  no  effect,  or  makes 
the  evil  worse. 

'  Dr.  Wollaston  performed  many  experiments  upon  the 
effects  of  tension  of  the  membrana  tympani,  and  he  found 
that  deafness  to  grave  notes  was  always  induced,  which,  as 


SWEET    SOUNDS.  213 

most  ordinary  sounds  are  of  a  low  pitch,  is  tantamount  to  a 
general  deafness.  Shrill  sounds,  however,  are  best  heard 
when  the  tympanic  membrane  is  tense.  Miiller  remarks, 
and  we  have  frequently  made  the  same  observation,  that 
the  dull  rumbling  sound  of  carriages  passing  over  a  bridge, 
or  of  the  firing  of  cannon,  or  of  the  beating  of  drums  at  a 
distance  ceases  to  be  heard  immediately  on  the  membrana 
tympani  becoming  tense  ;  while  the  treading  of  horses  upon 
stone  pavement,  the  more  shrill  creaking  of  carriages,  and 
the  rattling  of  paper,  may  be  distinctly  heard '  (Todd  and 
Bowman,  vol.  ii.  p.  95). 

4.  Passing  now  to  Sounds  considered  as  sensations,  we 
may  distinguish  these  into  three  classes.  The  first  comprises 
the  general  effects  of  sound  as  determined  by  QuaHty,  Inten- 
sity, and  Volume  or  Quantity, — ^to  which  all  ears  are  sensitive. 
The  second  class  includes  Musical  sounds, — for  which  a 
susceptibihty  to  Pitch  is  requisite.  Lastly,  there  is  the 
sensibility  to  the  Articulateness,  Distance,  and  Direction  of 
sounds, — which  are  the  more  intellectual  properties. 

5.  Sweetness. — Under  the  head  of  Quality,  the  terms  sweet, 
rich,  mellow,  are  appHed  to  the  pleasing  effects  of  simple 
sounds.  Instruments  and  voices  are  distinguished  by  the 
sweetness  of  their  indi\adual  tones  :  there  is  something  in  the 
material  and  mechanism  of  an  instrument  that  gives  a  sw^eet 
and  rich  effect,  apart  altogether  from  the  music  of  the  airs 
performed  upon  it.  Other  instruments  and  sounds  have  a 
grating,-  harsh,  unpleasant  tone,  like  bitterness  in  taste,  or  a 
stink  in  the  nostrils.  Some  substances,  by  their  texture, 
have  a  greater  sweetness  of  note  than  others.  Thus,  silver  is 
distinguished  among  the  metals  ;  and  glass  is,  also,  remarkable 
for  rich,  meliow  tones. 

The  researches  of  Helmholtz  and  others  seem  to  establish  the 
fact  that  the  differences  of  sounds  as  regards  Sweetness  (with  its 
opposites),  Timbre,  and  Vowel  Quality,  are  owing  to  the  combi- 
nation of  the  principal  tone  of  each  with  a  number  of  ocer-tones  ; 
which  combinations  are  susceptible  of  great  variety.  So  strong 
is  the  tendency  of  sounding  bodies  to  yield  these  over-tones — a 


214  SENSE    OF   HEARING. 

vibrating  string  neariy  always  vibrates  in  fractions,  as  well  as  in 
its  \yliole  length, — that  pure  tones,  although  experimentally  pro- 
ducible, are  scarcely  known  to  us  at  all.  Tones  very  nearly  pure 
arise  from  wide-stopped  organ  pipes.  The  effect  of  these  on  the 
ear  is  mellow,  but  insipid  :  they  are  intermediate  between  the 
sweet  and  the  harsh. 

According  to  this  view,  the  sweetness,  even  of  an  individual 
sound,  is  a  harmony  :  the  ground  tone  is  combined  with  over- 
tones, in  a  pleasing  concord.  A  harsh  grating  sound  is  a  combi- 
nation of  dissonant  tones.  Noise,  as  opposed  to  the  sweet  or  the 
melodious,  is  dissonance. 

On  this  theoretical  basis,  the  primary  division  of  sounds  would 
be, — Simple  sounds,  Sw^eet  combinations  or  concords,  and  Harsh 
combinations  or  discords.  But,  as  simple  sounds  are  practically 
non-existent,  we  may  still  abide  by  the  threefold  classification  in 
the  text, — namely,  (1)  Sw^eetness  and  Harshness,  (2)  Intensity, 
and  (3)  Volume.  The  second  and  third  properties.  Intensity 
and  Volume,  are  important  modifications  of  sound  whatever  be 
the  degree  of  sweetness  or  of  harshness ;  and  they  give  a 
character  to  such  as  belong  to  neither  extreme. 

The  sensation  of  the  sv^eet  in  sound  I  have  characterized 
as  the  simple,  pure,  and  proper  pleasure  of  hearing  ;  a  pleasure 
of  great  acuteness,  but  of  little  massiveness.  The  acuteness 
of  it  is  proportioned  to  the  rank  of  the  ear  as  a  sensitive 
organ,  or  to  the  susceptibility  of  the  mind  to  be  stirred  and 
moved  through  the  channel  of  hearing.  There  is  a  great 
superiority  in  the  endurableness  of  sweet  sounds,  over  the 
sweet  of  the  inferior  senses.  In  Touch,  the  distinction 
exists,  in  the  comparison  with  Taste  and  Smell;  in  Hearing, 
there  is  a  further  progress  ;  and  we  shall  have  to  note  the 
crowning  pitch  of  that  important  property  when  we  come  to 
the  sense  of  Sight.  By  virtue  of  this  fact,  we  can  obtain  from 
sight  and  hearing  a  larger  amount  of  enjoyment  within  the 
same  degree  of  fatigue  or  exhaustion,  or  before  reaching  the 
point  of  satiety.  Hence,  one  reason  for  terming  these  the 
'  higher  senses '. 

The  persistence  in  the  intellect,  which  governs  the  ideal 
continuance  and  reproduction  of  the  pleasures  and  pains  of 


LOUDNESS.  216 

sound,  is  of  the  same  high  order,  and  probably  grows  out  of 
the  same  fundamental  superiority  of  the  sense. 

The  opposite  of  sweetness  is  described  by  the  epithets 
harsh  and  grating,  and  is  the  characteristic  pain  of  hearing. 
But,  in  accounting  for  the  extremely  painful  sounds,  we  must 
not  confine  ourselves  to  the  fact  of  dissonance. 
/^>^  6.  Intensity,  Loudness. — Sounds  are  more  or  less  faint  or 
loud.  A  gentle  or  moderate  sound,  neither  sweet  nor  harsh, 
is  agreeable,  in  stillness,  simply  as  a  sensation,  and  under 
the  conditions  wherein  stimulation,  as  such,  is  pleasurable. 
According  as  the  loudness  of  a  somid  increases,  so  does  the 
stiiuulation.  The  effect,  at  a  given  point,  takes  the  character 
of  pungenc}^ — like  the  action  of  ammonia  on  the  nose,  or  a 
smart  stroke  on  the  skin.  A  loud  speaker  is  exciting.  The 
rattle  of  carriages,  the  jingle  of  an  iron  work,  the  noise  of  a 
cotton  mill,  the  ringing  of  bells  close  to  the  ear,  the  discharge 
of  musketry  and  ordnance,  are  all  exciting  from  their  in- 
tensity ;  to  fresh  and  vigorous  nerves  plunged  into  them 
after  quietness,  these  noises  give  pleasure.  They  may 
be  described,  however,  as  a  coarse  excitement ;  there  is  a 
great  cost  of  tear  and  wear  of  nerve  for  the  actual  satis- 
faction. 

The  intensity,  rising  beyond  a  certain  pitch,  turns  to 
pain.  The  screeching  of  a  parrot-house,  the  shrill  barking 
of  the  smaller  species  of  dogs,  the  whistling  in.  the  fingers 
practised  by  boys  in  the  streets,  the  screaming  of  infants, 
are  instances  of  painful  pungency.  The  sharping  of  a  saw, 
and  the  scratching  of  a  piece  of  glass,  yield  an  intense  shrill 
note.  In  most  of  these  cases,  we  must  suppose  an  element 
of  dissonance,  as  well  as  a  great  and  smarting  intensity. 
The  only  criterion  of  marked  dissonance,  as  opposed  to  mere 
pungency,  is  the  offence  given  to  the  ear  under  all  conditions, 
and  not  merely  under  fatigue  and  exhaustion. 

The  suddenness  of  sounds,  by  the  abrupt  transition,  aggra- 
vates their  intensity,  on  the  general  principle  of  Eelativity. 
If  unexpected,  they  produce  the  discomposure  usually  attend- 
ing a  breach  of  expectation. 


216  SENSE    OF   HEARING. 

7.  Volume  or  Quantity. — This  means  the  sound'  coming 
from  a  sounding  mass  of  great  surface  or  extent.  The 
waves  of  the  '  many-sounding  sea,'  the  discharge  of  tliunder, 
the  howHng  winds,  are  voluminous  sounds.  A  sound  echoed 
from  many  sides  is  voluminous.  The  shout  of  a  great 
multitude  is  impressive  from  the  volume.  Grave  sounds, 
inasmuch  as  they  require  a  larger  instrument,  are  compara- 
tively voluminous. 

Whether  sounds  be  sweet  or  indifferent,  their  multipli- 
cation has  an  agreeable  effect  on  the  ear.  The  sensation  is 
extended  in  volume  or  amount  without  the  waste  of  nervous 
power  accompanying  great  pungency.  Both  physically  and 
mentally,  these  sounds  conform  to  the  laws  of  massive 
sensation. 

If  a  sound  is  intrinsically  harsh  or  grating,  or  if  painful 
from  intensity,  the  increase  in  volume  will  be  an  increase  of 
pain, — as  in  machinery.  The  braying  of  the  ass  combines 
the  harsh  and  the  voluminous. 

8.  Pitch  or  Time. — -By  pitch  is  meant  the  acuteness  or 
graveness  of  a  sound,  as  determined  by  the  ear,  and  resolvable 
into  the  rate  of  vibration  of  the  sounding  body,  or  the 
number  of  vibrations  in  a  given  time.  The  gravest  sound 
audible  to  the  human  ear  is,  according  to  Helmholtz,  16 
vibrations  a  second  ;  the  highest  audible  sound  corresponds 
to  38,000  vibrations  a  second, — being  a  compass  of  eleven 
octaves.  One  of  the  deepest  tones  in  use  on  orchestra  instru- 
ments is  the  E  of  the  double  bass,  giving  41;|  vibrations  a 
second.  The  highest  note  of  the  orchestra  (D  of  the  piccolo 
flute)  is  4752  vibrations  (Helmholtz:  TundaWs  Lecture)^  on 
Sound,  p.  72).  The  practical  range  is  thus  about  seven 
octaves.  At  the  upper  limit  of  hearing,  persons  differ  as 
much  as  two  octaves  ;  the  squeak  of  the  bat  and  the  sound 
of  a  cricket  are  unheard  by  some  ears. 

A  sound  of  uniform  pitch  is  a  musical  note.  In  the  fact 
of  uniform  continuance,  there  is  a  special  mode  of  pleasure. 
It  is  only  such  sounds  that  can  be  farther  combined  into 
musical  harmonies. 


HARMONY  AND   DISCORD.  217 

Although,  ill  music,  less  intervals  than  a  semitone  are  not 
admitted,  the  ear  can  distinguish  still  smaller  differences. 
A  quarter  of  a  tone  makes  a  marked  difference  to  an  ordinary 
ear.  A  good  musician  can  distinguish  two  tones  whose 
vibrations  are  as  1149  to  1145,  sounded  after  each  other,  and 
even  a  smaller  difference  if  they  are  sounded  together.  Two 
pitchforks  whose  number  of  vibrations  per  second  are  1209 
and  1210,  sounded  simultaneously,  can  be  distinguished  by  a 
first-rate  ear. 

9.  The  waxing  and  leaning  of  sound.  The  gradual  in- 
crease or  diminution  of  the  hjudncss  of  a  sound,  is  one  of  the 
effects  introduced  into  musical  composition,  owing  to  the 
power  it  has  to  impart  additional  pleasure.  The  howling  or 
moaning  of  the  wind  has  sometimes  this  character,  and  pro- 
duces a  deep  impression  upon  all  minds  sensitive  to  sound. 
The  dying  away  of  sound  is  especially  noted  as  touching : 
'  that  music  hath  a  dying  fall '.  It  may  be,  that  a  muscular 
feeling  enters  into  this  sensation ;  the  gradually  increased  or 
relaxed  tension  of  the  muscles  of  the  ear  being  a  probable 
accompaniment  of  the  increase  or  diminution  of  loudness. 
AVe  cannot  afhrm,  however,  that  it  may  not  be  due  to  the 
auditory  nerves  alone.  When  the  pitch  is  gradually  changed, 
as  well  as  the  degree,  we  have  a  further  modification  intro- 
duced into  musical  composition,  but  apt  to  degenerate  into 
the  '  whine  '  or  '  sing-song  '.  In  the  notes  of  birds,  we  may 
trace  this  effect ;  in  the  execution  of  accomplished  singers, 
in  the  violin  and  other  instruments,  and  in  the  cadences  of  a 
musical  orator,  we  may  likewise  observe  it. 

10.  Harmonij  and  Discord.  —  The  concurrence  of  two  or 
more  sounds  may  be  pleasing  or  unpleasing,  irrespective  of 
their  character  individually.  The  pleasurable  concurrence 
is  called  Harmony.  It  is  dependent  upon  the  numerical 
relationship  of  the  vibrations  of  the  two  sounds.  Simple 
ratios,  as  1  to  2  (octave),  2  to  3  (fifth),  3  to  4  (fourth),  4  to  5 
(major  third),  5  to  6  (minor  third),  are  harmonious  in  the 
order  stated.  All  these  are  admissible  in  musical  composi- 
tion, and  are  termed  chords.     The  combination  8  to  9  (a 


218  SENSE    OF    HEAEING. 

single  tone)  is  a  dissonant  combination ;  15  to  16  (a  semi- 
tone) is  a  grating  discord. 

It  has  already  been  mentioned  that  an  individual  sound 
whose  character  is  sweetness,  is  already,  as  it  were,  a  harmony, 
or  concord  of  many  sounds  ;  the  main  tone  being  combined  with 
over-tones.  In  music,  these  sounds  are  still  further  combined, 
according  to  the  general  laws  of  harmony. 

The  pleasure  of  harmony  is  a  wide-spread  fact  of  the  human 
mind :  it  extends  to  sight  as  well  as  to  hearing,  and  is  not 
wanting  in  the  inferior  senses — w^e  may  have  harmonizing  or 
discordant  tastes.  In  the  higher  emotions,  a  concurrence  may- 
be either  harmonious  or  discordant.  The  foundation  of  the 
pleasure  is  probably  the  same  throughout :  it  is  a  general  prin- 
ciple, whereby  mental  states  are  regarded  as  either  co-operating 
or  conflicting  with  each  other ;  in  the  one  case,  economizing 
nervous  power  and  bringing  pleasure, — in  the  other  case,  wasting 
power  and  causing  pain. 

11.  Timbre.— -This  means  the  difference  between  sounds, 
otherwise  the  same,  proceeding  from  different  materials, 
instruments,  or  voices.  We  recognize  a  qualitative  differ- 
ence between  the  flute  and  the  violin,  or  between  the 
trumpet  and  the  clarionet ;  we  can  distinguish  between  one 
violin  and  another,  and  between  different  voices  sounding 
the  same  notes  with  the  same  intensity.  These  differences 
are  now  explained  by  the  presence  of  auxiliary  upper  tones 
in  all  instruments ;  which  tones  vary  with  the  material  and 
the  instrument.  '  In  the  piano  the  six  first  octaves  are 
heard,  not  the  seventh  and  ninth ;  in  the  violin  the  six 
octaves  heard  feebly,  the  other  octaves  very  distinct.'  It  is 
supposed  that  perfectly  pure  tones,  identical  as  regards  pitch 
and  intensity,  would  be  undistinguishable,  whatever  might 
be  their  source. 

12.  Articulate  Sounds. — Of  articulate  sounds,  some  have  a 
character  so  peculiar  that  our  discrimination  of  them  is  no 
surprise.  The  hissing  sound  of  s,  the  burring  of  the  r,  the 
hum  of  the  i)i,  are  well-marked  modes  of  producing  variety 
of  effect.     We  can  understand   how  each  should  impart  a 


AETICULATE    SOUNDS.  219 

ditferent  kind  of  shock  to  the  nerve  of  hearing.  So,  we  can 
see  a  reason  for  distinguishing  the  abrupt  sound  f,  t,  k  from 
the  continuous  or  vocal  sounds  h,  d,  and  g,  and  from  the 
same  sounds  with  the  nasal  accompaniment  ni,  n,  ng.  It  is 
not  quite  so  easy  to  explain  the  distinction  of  shock  between 
the  labials,  dentals,  and  gutturals  ;  still,  if  we  compare  'p 
(labial),  with  k  (guttural),  we  can  suppose  that  the  stroke 
that  gives  the  k  is  harder  than  the  other. 

The  vowel  sounds  are  explained  by  the  over-tones 
(octaves)  concurring  with  each  fundamental  tone,  and  vary- 
ing according  to  the  resonance  of  the  mouth,  the  form  of 
which  is  altered  for  each  vowel.  AVhen  the  ground  tone  is 
heard  nearly  alone,  the  sound  has  the  character  of  u  (full). 
The  0  has,  along  with  the  ground  tone,  the  next  octave 
audibly  combined.  The  a  (ah)  is  characterized  by  the 
marked  presence  of  the  very  high  octaves.* 

The  same  principle  is  applied  to  explain  differences  in  the 
consonant  sounds ;  but,  as  respects  these,  there  are  other 
palpable  distinctions,  such  as  we  have  already  alluded  to. 

Some  persons  are  distinguished  by  their  nice  discrimination 
of  articulate  sounds.  If  the  foregoing  theory  be  correct,  a  good 
ear  for  musical  notes  should  be  also  a  good  ear  for  articulation, 
seeing  that  the  articulate  sounds  involve  composite  musical  tones. 
An  ear  for  pitch  is  thus  the  basis  both  of  music  and  of  speech. 
Strictly  speaking,  however,  this  applies  only  to  the  vowels.  The 
discrimination  of  consonants  may  depend  on  other  qualities  of  the 
ear  ;  a  circumstance  requiring  to  be  adverted  to,  seeing  that,  m 

*  The  following  is  Helinholtz's  table  for  the  leading  vowel  sounds:  — 
Ground 
Vowel.     Tone.       2nd.  3rd.  4th.  5th.  Gth.  7th. 

u  (full)  strong         • —  weak  —  —  —  — 

o  (oh)     strong     strong       (weak)        (weak)  —  —  — 

e  (get)    strong  middling     strong        (weak)         (weak)  —  — 

i  (bit)    weaker   strong     (very  weak)  strong     (middling) 
a  (ah)    strong    (weak)        weak        middhng    stronger      stronger     stronger 

' , ' 

than  3  and  4. 
The  parentheses  denote  that  the  tones  they  enclose  are  not  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  the  making  of  the  special  vowel-sound. 


•220  SENSE    OF    HEAEING. 

point  of  fact,  the  good  musical  ear  is  not  always  a  good  articulate 
ear.  The  sense  of  Time  is  not  confined  to  any  organ  or  any  class 
of  feelings  ;  but  it  may  attain  to  great  perfection  in  hearing. 

18.  The  perception  of  distance  can  result  from  nothing 
but  experience.  I  quote  from  Longet.  '  As  soon  as  the 
organ  presents  a  sensibility  and  a  development  sufficient  for 
discerning  easily  the  relative  intensity  of  two  consecutive 
sounds,  nothing  further  is  necessary  in  order  to  acquire  the 
notions  of  distance  and  direction  of  the  body  from  which  the 
sonorous  waves  emanate.  In  fact,  if  a  sound  is  already 
known  to  us,  as  in  the  case  of  the  human  voice,  or  an  in- 
strument, we  judge  of  its  distance  by  the  feebleness  of  its 
impression  upon  the  nerve  of  hearing ;  if  the  sound  is  one 
whose  intensity,  at  a  given  distance,  is  unknown,  as,  for 
example,  thunder,  we  suppose  it  nearer  according  as  it  is 
louder.' 

We  are  apt  to  mix  inferential  processes  with  our  judgment 
of  distance.  If  we  are  led  to  imagine  that  a  sound  is  farther 
off  than  it  really  is,  we  seem  to  hear  it  stronger  than  it  is. 
Awaking  suddenly  in  the  night,  we  hear  a  faint  noise, 
and  suppose  it  much  louder,  our  notion  of  its  real  distance 
being  for  a  few  moments  vague  and  confused.  It  being  an 
effect  of  distance  that  sounds  fade  away  into  a  feeble  hum, 
when  we  encounter  a  sound  whose  natural  quality  is  feeble, 
like  the  humming  of  the  bee,  we  are  ready  to  imagine  it  more 
distant  than  the  reality. 

14.  Direction. — -This  is  a  purely  intellectual  sensation, — in 
other  words,  is  of  importance  as  leading  us  to  perceive  the 
situation  of  the  objects  of  the  outer  world  whence  the  sound 
takes  its  rise. 

The  following  extract  from  Longet  indicates  the  kind  of 
experience  that  gives  us  the  feeling  of  direction : — 

'  With  regard  to  the  direction  of  the  sonorous  waves,  we 
can  at  present  only  say,  that  the  knowledge  of  it  is  owing  to 
a  process  of  reasoning  applied  to  the  sensation.  Thus,  we 
hear  distinctly  a  sound  emanating  from  a  given  point,  what- 


DIRECTION    OF    SOUNDS.  221 

ever  be  the  position  of  the  bead  ;  but  the  ear  being  able  to 
judge  of  sHght  differences  in  the  intensity  of  sounds,  we 
remark  that,  in  certain  positions  of  the  head,  the  sound 
seems  stronger.  We  are  hence  led  to  place  our  head  in  one 
fixed  position  as  regards  the  sounding  body.  But  our  sight 
tells  what  is  this  direction  of  most  perfect  hearing ;  and  we 
then  apply  the  observation  made  on  bodies  that  we  can  see 
to  those  that  are  not  seen.' 

The  combined  action  of  the  two  ears  also  favours  the 
perception  of  direction  of  sound  very  materially.  A  person 
that  has  become  deaf  in  one  ear  is,  usually,  unable  to  say 
whether  a  sound  is  before  or  behind.  The  change  of  effect 
produced  by  a  slight  rotation  of  the  head,  is  such  as  to  indi- 
cate direction  to  the  mind.  For,  while  the  sound  becomes 
more  perceptible  on  one  ear  —  the  ear  turned  to  face  the 
object  more  directly, — -the  sound  in  the  other  ear  is  to  the 
same  degree  obscured.  When  the  head  is  so  placed,  after 
various  trials,  that  the  greatest  force  of  sensation  is  felt  on 
the  right  ear,  and  the  least  on  the  left,  we  then  infer  that  the 
sounding  body  is  away  to  the  right ;  when  the  two  effects  are 
equal,  and  when  any  movement  of  the  head  makes  them  un- 
equal, we  judge  the  sound  to  be  either  right  in  front  or 
behind ;  and  we  can  further  discriminate  so  as  to  determine 
between  these  two  suppositions.* 

*  Accordiug  to  Ed.  Weber,  in  determining  the  direction  of  sounds,  we 
employ  the  external  ear  for  those  coming  from  above,  below,  behind,  before  ;  the 
tympanum  for  those  coming  from  left  to  right.  He  made  the  following 
experiments  : — The  head  was  inserted  in  water,  the  air-passage  being  filled 
with  air,  so  that  the  tympanum  was  free  to  vibrate.  In  that  case,  the  ear 
recognized  the  sounds  as  external  to  itself,  but  could  distinguish  them  only  as 
right  or  left  in  direction.  When,  further,  the  ear  itself  was  filled  with  water, 
and  the  free  action  of  the  tympanum  arrested,  the  sense  of  externality  was 
altogether  lost.  The  feeling  was  regarded  as  subjective.  It  was  observed 
by  E.  H.  Weber,  that  the  uniting  of  the  double  sensation  fi'om  the  two  ears 
(analogous  to  binocular  vision)  has  its  limits.  If  two  watches  with  different 
rates  of  ticking  are  held  before  one  ear,  the  ear  distinguishes  the  periods  when 
the  strokes  of  the  two  fall  together,  and  forms  to  itself  a  rhythm  out  of  the 
two  series  of  strokes.  If  the  watches  are  applied,  oue  to  each  ear,  the  sense 
of  rhythm  is  lost.  The  mind  can  no  longer  make  the  combination  effected 
when  the  two  watches  are  applied  separately  to  the  two  ears. 


^22  ■  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

The  sense  of  direction  is  by  no  means  very  delicate,  even 
after  being  educated  to  the  full.  We  can  readily  judge 
whether  a  voice  be  before  or  behind,  right  or  left,  up  or 
■down  ;  but  if  we  were  to  stand  opposite  to  a  row  of  persons, 
at  a  distance,  say,  of  ten  feet,  we  should  not  be  able,  I 
apprehend,  to  say  which  one  emitted  a  sound.  This  con- 
fusion is  well  known  to  schoolmasters.  So,  it  is  a  matter  of 
some  difficulty  to  find  out  a  skylark  in  the  air  from  the 
sound  of  its  song. 

15.  The  duration  of  the  feeling  of  an  individual  beat  can 
be  appreciated  by  noting  at  what  intervals  a  succession  of 
beats  seems  an  uninterrupted  stream  of  sound.  This 
makes,  in  fact,  the  inferior  limit  of  the  audibility  of  sounds. 
From  the  experiments  of  Helmholtz,  it  would  appear  that  a 
series  of  beats  begins  to  be  felt  as  continuous  when  they 
number  sixteen  in  a  second ;  so  that  the  impression  of  each 
must  continue  not  less  than  the  sixteenth  part  of  a  second. 

16.  The  subjective  sensations  of  the  ear  are  such  as 
buzzing,  ticking,  and  hmnming  sounds.  They  arise  from 
disease  of  the  brain,  or  the  auditory  nerve,  obstructions  in 
the  tympanum  and  Eustachian  tube,  etc. 


SENSE  OF  SIGHT. 


1.  The  objects  of  sight  include  nearly  all  material  bodies. 
Their  visibility  depends  on  their  being  acted  on  by  Light, — 
hitherto  the  most  inscrutable  of  natural  agents.  Certain 
bodies, — as  the  sun,  the  stars,  flame,  solids  at  a  high 
temperature, — give  origin  to  rays  of  light,  and  are  called 
self-luminous.  Other  bodies,  as  the  moon,  the  planets,  and 
the  greater  number  of  terrestrial  surfaces,  are  visible  only  by 
reflecting  the  rays  they  receive  from  the  self-luminous  class. 

The  reflexion  of  light  is  of  two  sorts  :  mirror  reflexion, 
which  merely  reveals  the  body  that  the  light  comes  from ; 
and  reflexion  of  visibility,  which  pictures  the  reflecting 
surface.  In  this  last  mode  of  reflexion,  the  light  is  broken 
up  and  emitted  in  all  directions  exactly  as  from  a  self- 
luminous  original.      Visible  surfaces  receiving  light  from 


TRANSPAEENT  AND  OPAQUE  BODIES.         223 

the  sun  have  thus  the  power  of  absorbing  and  re-issuing  it, 
while  a  mirror  simply  gives  a  new  direction  to  the  rays. 
When  we  look  at  a  picture  in  a  bad  light,  we  find  that  the 
rays  of  reflexion  overpower  the  rays  arising  from  the  coloured 
surface  of  the  picture  ;  consequently,  the  picture  is  imperfectly 
seen. 

As  regards  vision,  bodies  are  either  opaque  or  transparent. 
There  is  a  scale  of  degrees, — from  the  most  perfect  opacity,  as 
in  a  piece  of  clay,  to  the  most  perfect  transparency,  as  in  air. 
According  as  bodies  become  transparent,  they  cease  to  be 
visible. 

The  transparency  of  Air  is  not  absolutely  perfect ;  that  is 
to  say,  light,  in  passing  through  the  atmosphere,  is  to  a 
certuin  small  extent  arrested,  and  a  portion  reflected,  so  as 
to  make  the  mass  faintly  visible  to  the  eye.  When  we  look 
up  into  the  sky  through  a  cloudless  atmosphere,  all  the 
illumination  received  beyond  the  sun's  disc  is  light  reflected 
by  the  atmosphere  itself.  Liquids  are  still  less  transparent : 
although  they  transmit  light  so  as  to  show  objects  beyond 
them,  they  also  reflect  a  sulBicient  portion  to  be  themselves 
^dsible.  Light  falling  upon  the  surface  of  water  is  dealt  with 
in  three  different  ways.  One  portion  passes  through,  a 
second  is  reflected  as  from  a  mirror,  a  third  very  small 
portion  is  absorbed  and  radiated  anew,  so  as  to  make  the 
surface  visible  as  a  surface.  The  same  threefold  action 
obtains  in  transparent  solids, — as  glass,  crystal,  etc.  It  is  to 
be  remarked  of  solid  bodies  that  they  are  almost  all  trans- 
parent to  a  certain  small  depth, — as  shown  by  holding  up 
their  plates  or  laminae  to  the  Hght.  Gold  leaf,  for  example, 
permits  the  passage  of  light  ;  and  any  other  metal,  if 
similarly  attenuated,  w^ould  show  the  same  effect.  There 
is,  however,  in  this  case,  an  important  difference  to  be  noted, 
inasmuch  as  objects  are  not  distinctly  seen,  although  light 
is  transmitted  :  hence  the  name  '  translucent '  is  applied  to 
the  case,  to  distinguish  it  from  proper  transparency.  There 
may  be  something  more  than  a  difference  of  degree  between 
the  two  actions. 


224  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

Opaque  bodies  may  diffuse  much  light  or  little  :  some 
substances,  such  as  chalk  and  sea  foam,  emit  a  large  body 
of  light  ;  charcoal  is  remarkable  for  absorbing,  without 
emitting  the  sun's  rays.  This  is  the  ordinary,  perhaps  not 
the  full,  explanation  of  white  and  black, — the  one  implying 
a  surface  that  emits  a  large  portion  of  the  rays  of  visibility, 
the  other  few  or  none. 

Besides  the  difference  of  action,  making  white  and  black, 
and  the  intermediate  shades  of  grey,  there  is  a  difference  in 
the  texture  of  surfaces,  giving  birth  to  what  we  recognize  as 
Colour.  Upon  what  peculiarity  of  surface  the  difference 
between,  for  example,  red  and  blue,  depends,  we  cannot  at 
present  explain.  But  this  fact  of  colour  is  one  among  the 
many  distinctions  presented  by  the  various  materials  of  the 
globe.  Along  with  colour,  a  substance  may  have  more  or  less 
of  the  property  that  decides  between  white  and  black, — namely, 
copiousness  of  radiation.  This  makes  richness  of  colour, — as 
in  the  difference  between  new  and  faded  colours,  between 
turkey  red  and  dull  brick  clay  of  a  similar  hue. 

Some  bodies  are,  further,  said  to  possess  Lustre. 

Mineral  bodies  present  all  varieties  of  light,  colour,  and 
lustre  ;  but  the  prevailing  tint  of  rocks  and  soils  is  some  shade 
of  grey.  The  reddish  tint  of  clays  and  sandstones  is  chiefly 
due  to  the  prevalence  of  oxide  of  iron.  Vegetation  yields 
the  greenness  of  the  leaf,  and  the  variegated  tints  of  the 
flower.     Animal  bodies  present  new  and  distinct  varieties. 

2.  We  come,  next,  to  consider  the  orcian  of  sight, — the  Eye. 

'  Besides  the  structures  which  compose  the  globe  of  the  eye, 
and  constitute  it  an  optical  instrument,  there  are  certain  external 
accessory  parts,  which  protect  that  organ,  and  are  intimately 
connected  with  the  proper  performance  of  its  functions.  These 
are  known  as  the  appendages  of  the  eye  (they  have  been  named 
likewise  '  tutamina  oculi');  and  they  include  the  eyebrows,  the 
eyelids,  the  organ  for  secreting  the  sebaceous  (or  oily)  matter 
and  the  tears,  together  with  the  canals  by  which  the  latter  fluid 
is  conveyed  to  the  nose.' 

'  The  eyebroius  are  arched  ridges,  surmounting  on  each  side 


APPENDAGES    OF    THE    EYE.  225 

the  upper  border  of  the  orbit,  and  forming  a  boundary  between 
the  forehead  and  the  upper  eyehd.  They  consist  of  thick  integu- 
ment, studded  with  stiff,  obliquely  set  hairs,  under  which  lies 
some  fat,  with  part  of  the  two  muscles  named  respectively  the 
orbicular  muscle  of  the  eyehds  and  the  corrugator  of  the  eye- 
brows.' By  this  last-named  muscle,  the  eyebrows  are  drawn 
together,  and  at  the  same  time  downwards,  so  as  to  give  the 
frowning  appearance  of  the  eye  ;  the  opposite  action  of  lifting 
and  separating  the  eyebrows  is  performed  by  a  muscle  lying 
beneath  the  skin  of  the  head  termed  the  occipito-frontalis.  In 
regulating  the  admission  of  hght  to  the  eye,  and  in  the  expres- 
sion of  the  passions,  these  two  muscles  are  dalled  into  play ;  the 
one  is  stimulated  in  various  forms  of  pain  and  displeasure,  the 
other  in  an  opposite  class  of  feelings. 

'  The  eyelids  are  two  thin  movable  folds  placed  in  front  of 
each  eye,  and  calculated  to  conceal  it,  or  leave  it  exposed,  as 
occasion  may  require.  The  upper  lid  is  larger  and  more  mov- 
able than  the  lower,  and  has  a  muscle  (levator  palpebrae  superi- 
oris)  exclusively  intended  for  its  elevation.  Descending  below 
the  middle  of  the  eye,  the  upper  lid  covers  the  transparent  part 
of  the  organ  ;  and  the  eye  is  opened,  or  rather  the  lids  are  sepa- 
rated, by  the  elevation  of  the  upper  one  under  the  influence  of 
the  muscle  referred  to.  The  eyelids  are  joined  at  the  outer  and 
inner  angles  of  the  eye ;  the  interval  between  the  angles  varies 
in  length  in  different  persons,  and,  according  to  its  extent  (the 
size  of  the  globe  being  nearly  the  same),  gives  the  appearance  of 
a  larger  or  a  smaller  eye.  At  the  outer  angle,  which  is  more 
acute  than  the  inner,  the  lids  are  in  close  contact  with  the  eye- 
ball ;  but  at  the  inner  angle,  the  caruncula  lachrymalis  (a  small 
red  conical  body)  intervenes.  The  free  margins  of  the  lids  are 
straight,  so  that  they  leave  between  them,  when  approximated, 
merely  a  transverse  chink.  The  greater  part  of  the  edge  is 
flattened,  but  towards  the  inner  angle  it  is  rounded  off  for  a  short 
space  :  and  where  the  two  differently  formed  parts  join,  there 
exists  on  each  lid  a  slight  conical  elevation,  the  apex  of  which  is 
pierced  by  the  aperture  of  the  corresponding  lachrymal  duct ' 
(Quaiu). 

The  lachrymal   apparatus   is   constituted   by    the    following 
assemblage   of   parts, — viz.,    the  gland,  by  which  the  tears  are 

15 


226  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

secreted  at  the  outer  side  of  the  orbit ;  the  two  canals,  into  which 
the  iiuid  is  received  near  the  inner  angles ;  and  the  sac,  with  the 
duct  continued  from  it,  through  which  the  tears  pass  to  the 
interior  of  the  nose.  The  description  of  these  parts  needs  not  be 
quoted  in  detail  here.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  tears  are  secreted 
by  the  lachrymal  gland,  and  poured  out  from  the  eyelids  upon 
the  eyeball ;  the  washings  afterwards  running  into  the  lachrymal 
sac,  and  thence  by  the  nose. 

The  parts  now  dwelt  upon  are  less  coucerned  in  vision, 
than  in  expression  and  other  functions  auxiliary  to  vision. 
Though  not  directly  bearing  on  the  object  of  the  present 
section,  they  will  be  of  importance  when  we  come  to  con- 
sider the  emotions  and  their  outward  display.  From  them, 
we  turn  to  the  ball  or  globe  of  the  eye. 

'  The  globe,  or  ball  of  the  eye,  is  placed  in  the  fore  part  of 
the  orbital  cavity,  fixed  principally  by  its  connexion  with  the 
optic  nerve  behind,  and  the  muscles  with  the  eyelids  in  front, 
but  capable  of  changing  its  position  within  certain  limits.  The 
recti  and  obliqui  muscles  closely  surround  the  greater  part  of  the 
eyeball ;  the  lids,  with  the  caruncle  and  its  semilunar  membrane, 
are  in  contact  with  it  in  front  ;  and  behind,  it  is  supported  by  a 
quantity  of  loose  fat.  The  form  of  the  eyeball  is  irregularly 
spheroidal';  and,  when  viewed  in  profile,  is  found  to  be  composed 
of  segments  of  two  spheres,  of  which  the  anterior  is  the  smaller 
and  more  prominent ;  hence  the  diameter  taken  from  before 
backwards  exceeds  the  transverse  diameter  by  about  a  line. 
The  segment  of  the  larger  sphere  corresponds  to  the  sclerotic 
coat,  and  the  portion  of  the  smaller  sphere  to  the  cornea.' 

,  '  Except  when  certain  muscles  are  in  action,  the  axes  of  the 
eyes  are  nearly  parallel ;  the  optic  nerves,  on  the  contrary, 
diverge  considerably  from  one  another,  and  consequently  each 
nerve  enters  the  corresponding  eye  a  little  to  the  inner  or  nasal 
side  of  the  axis  of  the  globe. 

'  The  eyeball  is  composed  of  several  investing  membranes, 
concentrically  arranged,  and  of  certain  fluid  and  solid  parts 
contained  within  them.  The  membranes  are  three  in  number, 
an    external    fibrous   covering   named    sclerotic   and    cornea,    a 


COATS    OF    THE    EYE. 


227 


middle  vascular  and  pigmentary,  in  part  also  muscular,  mem- 
brane, the  choroid  and  the  iris,  and  an  internal  nervous  stratum, 
the  retina.  The  enclosed  light-refracting  parts,  also  three  in 
number,  are  the  aqueous  humour,  the  vitreous  body,  and  the  lens 
with  its  capsule.' 

The  conjunctiva  is  more  an  appendage  of  the  eye  than  a  portion 
of  the  globe.     It  is  a  thin,  transparent  membrane  covering  only 


Fig.  14.* 


3     n 


*  Horizontal  section  of  the  right  ej-e,  with  two  of  the  muscles,— ^the  ex- 
ternal and  internal  recti, — and  the  optic  nerve,  a.  Aqueous  humour,  h. 
Crystalline  lens.  c.  Vitreous  humour.  1.  Conjunctiva.  2.  Sclerotica.  3. 
Cornea.  4.  Choroid.  5.  Canal  of  Fontana.  6.^Ciliary  processes.  7.  Iris. 
8.  Retina.  9.  Hyaloid  membrane.  10.  Zone  of  Zinn,  or  ciliary  processes 
of  the  hyaloid.  11.  Membrane  of  aqueous  humour  (Wharton  Jones,  On  the 
Eye). 


228  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

the  front  or  visible  portion  of  the  ball,  and  reflected  on  it  from 
the  interior  of  the  eyehds,  of  which  it  is  the  lining  mucous 
membrane.  Over  the  clear  and  bulging  portion  of  the  eye,  it  is 
perfectly  transparent,  and  adheres  closely  to  the  surface ;  on  the 
parts  surrounding  the  clear  portion  it  is  less  transparent,  and 
contains  a  few  straggling  blood-vessels,  which  are  seen  as  red 
streaks  on  the  white  of  the  eye. 

'  The  sclerotic,  one  of  the  most  complete  of  the  tunics  of  the 
eye,  and  that  on  which  the  maintenance  of  the  form  of  the 
organ  chiefly  depends,  is  a  strong,  opaque,  unyielding,  fibrous 
structure,  composed  of  bundles  of  strong  white  fibres,  which 
interlace  with  one  another  in  all  directions.  The  membrane 
covers  about  five-sixths  of  the  eyeball,  leaving  a  large  opening 
in  front,  which  is  occupied  by  the  transparent  cornea,  and  a 
smaller  aperture  behind  for  the  entrance  of  the  optic  nerve.  The 
sclerotic  is  thickest  at  the  back  part  of  the  eye,  and  thinnest 
about  J  of  an  inch  from  the  cornea.  At  the  junction  with  the 
cornea  it  is  thickened.'  * 

'  The  cornea  is  a  transparent  structure,  occupying  the  aperture 
left  in  the  fore  part  of  the  sclerotic,  and  forming  about  one-fifth 
of  the  surface  of  the  globe  of  the  eye.'  The  two  together  complete 
the  encasement  of  the  eye,  and  no  other  portion  is  employed  for  the 
mere  purpose  of  maintaining  the  form  and  rigidity  of  the  ball. 

Spread  over  the  inner  surface  of  the  sclerotic,  lie  two  other 
membranous  expansions,  likewise  termed  coats  or  tunics,  but  of 
totally  different  nature  and  properties.  Next  the  sclerotic,  is  the 
choroid  coat, — which  is  a  membrane  of  a  black  or  deep  brown  colour, 
lining  the  whole  of  the  chamber  up  to  the  union  of  the  sclerotic 
with  the  cornea,  and  then  extending  inwards  as  a  ring  stretching 
across  the  eye.     It,  also,  is  pierced  behind  by  the  optic  nerve. 

The  choroid  coat  is  an  extremely  vascular  structure — that  is 
to  say,  it  is  composed  of  a  dense  mass  of  blood-vessels,  which  lie 
in  two  layers,  the  outermost  of  the  two  being  the  veins,  and  the 
other  the  arteries.  Inside  of  those  two  vascular  expansions,  is 
the  layer  containing  the  black  pigment  that  gives  to  the  coat  its 
colour,  and  which  it  is  the  object  of  the  numerous  blood-vessels 
to  keep  supplied.  The  pigment  is  enclosed  in  the  cells  of  a 
membrane,  and  these  cells  are  packed  very  closely  together,  and 
are  about  the  thousandth  part  of  an  inch  in  diameter.     Each  cell 


THE    EETINA.  229 

has  a  transparent  point  in  its  centre,  surrounded  by  a  dark 
margin. 

The  retina,  or  the  nervous  coat  of  the  eye,  is  placed  next  the 
choroid,  but  does  not  reach  so  far  forward.  If  a  strong  light  is 
thrown  upon  it  through  the  pupil  of  the  eye,  it  appears  of  a 
reddish  colour,  which  is  owing  to  its  blood-vessels.  When 
examined  after  death,  it  is  pinkish  and  transparent.  In  the 
centre  of  the  retina,  and  in  the  line  of  most  perfect  vision,  is 
observed  an  elliptical  yellow,  or  golden  yellow,  spot,  about  ^^ 
of  an  inch  long  and  J^  jvide,  in  the  middle  of  which  is  a 
dark  depression  called  by  the  discoverer,  Scemmerring,  the 
central  hole.  It  is  not  a  hole,  but  a  thinner  portion  of  the 
retina.  About  ^V  to  ^V  of  an  inch  from  the  inner  or  nasal  side 
of  the  yellow  spot,  is  a  flattened  circular  papilla,  corresponding 
with  the  place  where  the  optic  nerve  pierces  the  choroid  coat. 

The  retina  consists  of  several  layers.  Beginning  at  the 
inside,  which  is  in  contact  with  the  vitreous  humour,  we  find  a 
transparent  membrane  called  the  limiting  membrane,  whose 
thickness   does  not   exceed    — i —  of   an  inch.       Next    are  the 

o  0  0  0  0 

ramifications  of  the  optic  nerve,  the  fibres  being  arranged  in  fine 
meshes,  and  wanting  the  double  outline.  These  fibres  are 
exceedingly  minute  ;  the  average  diameter  is  not  more  than  the 
oi'    .  ^\,  ,.    of   3,n   inch ;    while    some   are   less   than   the 

4  0  0  0  0 


of  an  inch  in  thickness.     Within  the  fibrous  layer,  is  a 

layer  of  nerve  cells  or  vesicles,  resembling  the  vesicles  that  make 

up  the  grey  substance  of  the  brain.      These  are  most  abundant 

in  xhe  hinder  or  central  parts  of  the  retina  :    they  vary  from  the 

-^QQ  to  the  Y5V0  of  ^^^  inch  in  diameter.      Then  comes  a  still 

more  complicated  layer,  called  the  yramdar  and  fibrous   layer, 

which  constitutes  the  link  of  connexion  between  me  retina  and 

the  choroid  coat.     It  is  made  up  of  two  distinguishable  layers  of 

little  grains  or  nuclei,  and  a  number  of  very  fine  filaments,  with 

a  direction  perpendicular  to  the  retina.     At  their  outei* connexion, 

these  filaments  are  the  Q^^jyij  to  the  4(7^00  of  an  inch  in  diameter; 

at  their  inner  connexion  with  the  fibres  of  the  optic  nerve,  they»are 

from  the   ^^l^  ^   to  the    — - —     of  an  inch  in  diameter.      The 
80000  120000 

inner  of  the  two  layers,  making  up  the  granular  and  fibrous 
layer,  immediately  adjoins  the  choroid,  and  is  called  the  colunmar 
or  bacillar  layer,  being  made  up  of  closely-packed  perpendicular 


■230  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

rods,  transparent  and  colourless,  about  3-775-0  '^^  ^^  ^^'^^^  "^  length, 

and  i of  an  inch  in  thickness.     Interspersed  with  these  are 

a  0  0  0  0  ^ 

larger  rods  called  cones,  -^--  of  an  inch  in  diameter.*  Each 
pigment  cell  of  the  choroid  receives  as  many  as  six  or  eight  of 
the  cones,  with  a  larger  number  of  the  smaller  rods  grouped 
round  them.  They  are  connected  with  the  other  parts  of  the 
retina  by  the  fine  perpendicular  filaments. 

'We  may  then  consider  the  retina  as  made  up  of  three  main  layers  of 
cells :  (1)  the  rods  and  cones  with  the  outer  nuclear  layer,  (2)  the  cells  forming 
the  inner  nuclear  layer,  and  (3)  the  ganglionic  cells  with  the  optic  iibres.  On 
theoretical  grounds  we  may  conclude  that  these  three  layers  are  functionally 
continuous,  that  changes  set  going  in  the  (inner  limbs  of  the)  rods  and  cones 
sweep  through  the  inner  nuclear  layer,  and  issue  along  the  fibres  of  the  optic 
nerve  as  neiTOUs  impulses ;  but,  with  at  least  our  present  knowledge,  we  cannot 
demonstrate  a  structural  continuity  between  them.  Two  conspicuous  breaks 
occur  at  the  two  molecular  layers.  We  can  trace  the  rod  fibres  and  the  cone 
fibres  to  the  outer  molecular  layer,  and  there  we  lose  them.  We  can  trace  the 
optic  fibres  through  or  apart  from  the  ganglionic  cells  to  the  inner  moleciilar 
layer,  and  there  we  lose  them  too.  We  can  trace  the  processes  of  the  cells  of 
the  inner  nuclear  layer  on  the  one  hand  to  the  inner  and  on  the  other  to  the 
outer  molecular  layer,  and  there  these  too  are  lost.  These  two  molecular  layers, 
which  repeat  in  the  outljdng  part  of  the  brain  which  we  call  the  retina  some 
of  the  characteristic  features  of  the  brain  itself,  are  obviously  of  no  little  import- 
ance in  the  development  of  visual  impulses ;  but  for  a  proper  understanding  of 
their  nature  we  must  await  the  results  of  further  inquiry.  At  present  all  we 
can  perhaps  say  is  that  each  layer  consists  of  a  network  of  fine  nervous  fibrils 
embedded  in  neuroglia,  but  that,  as  in  corresponding  cerebral  structures,  we 
cannot  accuratelj-  distinguish  neuroglial  from  nervous  elements,  much  less 
trace  out  the  exact  disposition  of  the  latter.  In  the  outer  molecular  layer 
among  the  tangle  of  fibrils,  nervous  and  neuroglial,  we  may  distinguish  small 
branched  cells,  lying  flatwise  in  the  plane  of  the  layer;  these  are  probably 
neuroglial  ceUs  whose  branched  processes  become  neuroglial  fibrils.  In  the 
inner  molecular  laj"er  such  cells  are  absent  or  at  least  inconspicuous ;  the  laj'er 
seems  to  consist  on  the  one  hand  of  nervous  fibrils  derived  from  the  branching 
processes  of  nerve  cells  and  on  the  other  hand  of  neuroglial  fibrils,  all  embedded 
in  a  peculiar  gi'ound-substance  which  stains  deeply  with  osmic  acid,  and  indeed 
is  of  a  nature  in  some  respects  allied  to  the  medulla  of  a  nerve  fibre. 

'  We  have  reason  to  think  that  the  molecular  changes  which  light  induces 
in  the  inner  limbs  of  the  rods  and  cones  difier  very  considerably  in  character 
from  the  molecular  changes  in  the  fibres  of  the  optic  nerve  which  constitute  a 
nervous  impulse,  and  that  th?  transformation  from  the  one  set  of  changes  to 
the  other  is  effected  through  some  or  other  of  the  retinal  structures  which  we 
have  described.  But  we  cannot  attribute  definite  functions  to  the  several 
elements;  and  here,  as  in  the  case  of  the  brain  and  spinal  cord,  we  may 
hesitate  to  assign  too  much   to   cellular   elements.     We  may,  perhaps,  in  con- 

*The  above  estimates  of  size  are  mostly  taken  from  KoUiker,  being 
transformed  from  millimetres  by  dividing  by  24  (instead  of  25  and  a 
fraction),  to  keep  to  round  nmnbers. 


THE    YELLOW    SPOT.  231 

formit}'  with  what  we  have  urged  elsewhere,  regard  the  cells  of  the  ganglionic 
layer  as  being  largely  concerned  in  nutritive  labours,  and  may  even  apply  the 
same  view  to  the  nuclear  layers  ;  if  this  be  so,  no  small  part  of  the  work  of  the 
retina  in  transforming  the  first  crude  effects  of  the  impact  of  light  into  true 
nervous  impulses,  may  be  looked  upon  as  being  carried  out  by  the  tangle  of 
nerve  fibrils,  in  the  two  molecular  layers  and  elsewhere'  (Foster,  p.  1202). 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  how  those  several  elements  are 
disposed  in  the  yellow  spot  and  its  vicinity,  where  vision  is  most 
perfect.  From  the  margin  of  the  spot  towards  the  central  hole, 
the  rods  of  the  colmiinar  layer,  the  nuclei  resting  upon  them, 
and  the  fibres  of  the  optic  nerve,  gradually  diminish,  and  at  last 
fade  away.  On  the  central  hole,  nothing  is  left  but  the  larger 
rods,  or  cones,  with  the  fine  perpendicular  fibres,  and  the  vesicles, 
which  are  here  closer  than  anywhere  else,  there  being  one  for 
every  cone,  and  the  layer  being  7  or  8  cells  thick.  Those 
elements  that  thus  disappear  iu  the  central  hole,  are,  however, 
very  abundant  near  the  margin  of  the  yellow  spot.  The  smaller 
rods  take  the  place  of  the  cones,  and  the  fibres  of  the  optic 
nerve  are  very  abundant  and  close.  Thus,  if  we  take  the  yellow 
spot  together  with  its  immediate  surroundings,  we  find  there  the 
retina  most  highly  developed  ;  and  it  is  on  this  part  that  we  can 
discriminate  visible  objects  with  the  greatest  delicacy.  The 
unequal  distribution  of  the  different  elements  between  the  outer 
and  inner  parts  of  the  yellow  spot  is  remarkable.* 

*  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  {Psychology,  new  edition,  p.  35)  indicates  a  class 
of  structures,  at  the  extremities  of  the  nerves  of  sense,  as  multipliers  of 
distur bailees,  or  as  ser\ang  to  enhance  the  efficacy  of  the  peripheral  stimu- 
lation of  the  nerves.  Thus,  in  touch,  the  short  hairs  render  the  skin  more 
sensitive  to  contacts  ;  while  the  so-called  '  little  bodies  of  touch'  tend  greatly 
to  exaggerate  the  pressure  upon  the  nerve  fibres  when  the  skin  is  compressed. 
In  the  ear,  the  otolites  and  minute  rods  and  fibres  serve  to  transform  the 
liquid  %abrations  into  the  more  energetic  vibrations  of  solids,  so  as  to  affect 
the  nerve  more  powerfully.  Finally,  in  the  eye,  the  lenses  concentrate  the 
light  upon  the  retina. 

The  structures  at  the  back  of  the  eye  are  interpreted  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple of  increasing  the  susceptibility  to  slight  disturbance ;  the  luminous 
waves  being  the  feeblest  of  all  known  agencies.  The  fibres  of  the  retina  are 
reduced  to  the  naked  core  ;  the  protecting  medullary  sheath  being  absent. 
The  light,  passing  through  the  transparent  retina,  affects  the  more  sus- 
ceptible pigment  cells  of  the  choroid  coat,  whence  the  disturbance  is  con- 
veyed by  the  rods  and  perpendicular  filaments  to  the  nervous  layer  of  the 
retina.  Lastly,  the  nervous  layer  itself  consists,  not  only  of  fibres,  but  also 
of  nerve  vesicles  or  corpuscles,  which  arc  much  more  liable  than  the  fibres  to 
take  on  molecular  disturbance,  and  originate  molecular  motions. 


232  SENSE    OF   SIGHT. 

Before  pointing  out  the  different  bodies  that  make  up  the 
bulk  of  the  eye,  and  enable  it  to  act  as  an  optic  lens,  I  must 
call  attention  to  several  other  substances  of  a  membranous 
or  fibrous  character  lying  under  the  cornea  and  near  the 
junction  with  the  sclerotic  coat.  The  first  of  these  is  the 
ciliary  ligament, — a  narrow  circular  band,  of  a  greyish-white 
colour,  close  behind  the  junction  above-named.  The  fore- 
most margin,  the  thicker  of  the  two,  gives  attachment  to 
the  circular  curtain  called  the  iris.  The  thinner  and  pos- 
terior margin  is  blended  with  the  choroid  coat,  which  here 
prolongs  itself  inwards  in  a  series  of  radiated  folds  called 
the  ciliarij  processes.  The  ciliary  processes  lie  behind  the 
iris,  and  make  a  black,  wrinkled,  narrow  rim,  concealed 
from  external  view. 

'  The  iris  may  rightly  be  regarded  as  a  process  of  the  choroid  ; 
it  is  continuous  with  it,  although  of  a  modiiied  structure.  It 
forms  a  vertical  curtain,  stretched  in  the  aqueous  humour  before 
the  lens,  and  perforated  for  the  transmission  of  light.  It  is 
attached  all  round  at  the  junction  of  the  sclerotic  and  the  cornea, 
so  near  indeed  to  the  latter  that  its  anterior  surface  becomes 
continuous  with  the  posterior  elastic  lamina.'  '  The  anterior 
surface  of  the  iris  has  a  brilliant  lustre,  and  is  marked  by  lines 
accurately  described  by  Dr.  Jacob,  taking  a  more  or  less  direct 
course  towards  the  pupil.  These  lines  are  important  as  being 
indicative  of  a  fibrous  structure.'  '  When  the  pupil  is  contracted, 
these  converging  fibres  are  stretched ;  when  it  is  dilated,  they  ai^ 
thrown  more  or  less  into  zigzags.  The  pupil  is  nearl^^  circular, 
and  is  situated  rather  to  the  inner  side  of  the  centre  of  the  iris. 
By  the  movements  of  the  iris,  it  is  dilated  or  contracted,  so  as  to 
admit  more  or  less  light  to  the  interior ;  and  its  diameter  under 
these  circumstances  may  vary  from  about  J^  to  i  of  an  inch ' 
(Todd  and  Bowman,  vol.  ii.  p.  25). 

The  iris  is  thus  to  be  considered  as  a  muscular  structure ; 
its  fibres  being  of  the  unstriped  variety,  or  of  the  kind  that 
prevails  among  the  involuntary  muscles,  as  the  muscular 
fibres  of  the  intestines.     It  is  abundantly  supplied  with  nerves. 


LENSES    OF   THE    EYE.  233 

While  the  radiating  fibres  ah-eady  described  serve  to  dilate  the 
pupil,  a  second  class  of  fibres,  arranged  in  circles  round  the 
opening,  and  best  seen  at  the  inner  margin  and  behind,  operate 
in  contracting  it.  The  action  is  regulated  by  the  intensity 
of  the  light.  In  the  dark,  or  in  a  very  faint  light,  the  dilating 
fibres  are  tense  and  contracted  to  the  full,  making  the  pupil 
very  wide.  The  stimulus  of  light  brings  the  circular  or  con- 
tracting fibres  into  play,  and  contracts  the  opening.  The 
changes  thus  eiTected  are  useful  in  adapting  the  eye  to  dif- 
ferent lights,  admitting  a  larger  quantity  with  a  feeble  light, 
and  a  smaller  quantity  with  one  that  is  too  strong.  AVhen 
this  reflex  power  of  adaptation  reaches  its  limit,  and  the 
brilliancy  is  still  too  great,  we  then  put  forth  the  voluntary 
efforts  of  closing  the  eye,  or  of  turning  the  head  away  from 
the  object.     (See  Foster,  pp.  1162,  1172,  1179.) 

Behind  the  ciliary  ligament,  and  covering  the  outside  of 
the  ciliary  processes,  is  a  greyish,  semi-transparent  structure, 
known  as  the  ciliary  muscle.  '  It  belongs  to  the  unstriped 
variety  of  muscle,  and  its  fibres  appear  to  radiate  back- 
wards from  the  junction  of  the  sclerotic  and  cornea,  and 
to  lose  themselves  on  the  outer  surface  of  the  ciliary  body. 
The  muscular  nature  of  this  structure  is  confirmed  by  its 
anatomy  in  birds,  where  it  is  largely  developed,  as  noticed 
by  Sir  P.  Crampton '  (Todd  and  Bowman,  ii,  27). 

A  peculiar  interest  has  come  to  attach  to  this  muscle, 
from  its  supposed  operation  in  adapting  the  eye  to  objects 
at  different  distances. 

Passing  now  from  the  coats  of  the  eye  to  the  substance, 
we  find  three  humours,  or  transparent  masses  occupying  it 
in  the  following  order  :  in  the  front  is  the  aqveous  humour  ; 
next,  the  crystalline  lens ;  and  backmost  the  vitreous  humour. 

The  aqueous  or  watery  humour  is  a  clear,  watery  liquid  lying 
under  the  cornea  in  front,  and  bounded  behind  by  the  crystalline 
lens  and  the  folds  of  the  ciliary  processes.  This  humour  is  very 
nearly  pure  water,  containing  in  solution  a  small  quantity  of 
common  salt  and  albumen  ;  and  is  enclosed  in  a  membrane,  which 
is  in  contact  with  the  inner  surface  of  the  cornea,  in  front,  and 


234  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

the  ciliary  processes  and  lens  behind.     The  liquid  is  partly  before 
and  partly  behind  the  iris. 

'  The  vitreous  or  glassy  humour  lies  behind  the  crystalline  lens, 
and  occupies  the  entire  posterior  chamber  of  the  eye,  being  about 
two-thirds  of  the  whole.  It  consists  of  a  clear,  thin  fluid,  enclosed 
in  a  membrane,  which  membrane  not  merely  surrounds  it,  but 
radiates  inwards  into  its  substance  like  the  partitions  of  an  orange, 
so  as  to  make  up  a  half-solid  gelatinous  body — the  vitreous  body, 
or  posterior  lens  of  the  eye.  These  partitions  are  very  numerous, 
and  point  to  the  axis  of  the  eye,  but  do  not  reach  to  it ;  and, 
consequently,  there  is  a  central  cylinder  passing  from  front  to 
back,  composed  only  of  the  fluid  of  the  body.  The  form  of  the 
vitreous  body  is  convex  behind,  while,  before,  there  is  a  deep  cup- 
shaped  depression  for  receiving  the  crystalline  lens.  The  mem- 
brane that  surrounds  it  on  all  sides,  as  well  as  entering  into  the 
interior,  has  a  twofold  connexion  in  front ;  it  doubles  so  as  to 
receive  the  crystalline  lens  between  its  folds,  and  it  unites  with 
the  ciliary  processes,  which  surround  the  lens  without  reaching 
its  border.  Thus  the  partition,  between  the  aqueous  humour  in 
front,  and  the  vitreous  humour  behind,  is  made  up  of  three 
successive  portions  enclosing  one  another :  the  wrinkled  black 
ring  of  the  ciliary  processes  outermost ;  within  this,  a  ring  of  the 
doubled  membrane  of  the  vitreous  humour ;  and,  inmost  of  all, 
the  crystalline  lens,  enclosed  between  the  two  folds  of  the  mem- 
brane. 

The  crystalline  lens  is  a  transparent  solid  lens, — double  convex 
in  its  form,  but  more  rounded  behind  than  before.  It  is  sus- 
pended between  the  aqueous  and  vitreous  humours,  in  the  manner 
already  described.  Its  anterior  convexity  approaches  very  near 
the  curtain  of  the  iris  stretched  in  front  of  it.  The  lens  is  enclosed 
in  a  capsule  ;  and,  of  this,  the  front  portion  is  thick,  firm,  and 
horny,  while  the  portion  on  the  back  is  thin  and  membranous, 
adhering  firmly  to  the  membrane  of  the  vitreous  humour.  The 
substance  of  the  lens  varies  in  its  character  :  the  outside  is  soft 
and  gelatinous  ;  beneath  is  a  firm  layer ;  and,  in  the  centre,  is  the 
hardest  part,  called  the  nucleus.  It  is  supphed  with  blood- 
vessels in  the  edges ;  but  none  appear  to  penetrate  within,  except 
in  a  very  early  stage  of  life.  It  undergoes,  altogether,  a  great 
change  during  the  development  of  the  individual.     In  the  foetus. 


MUSCLES    OF    THE    EYE.  235 

it  is  nearly  spherical,  and  not  perfectly  transparent ;  in  mature 
life,  it  is  of  the  form  and  character  we  have  described ;  while,  in 
old  age,  it  becomes  flattened  on  both  surfaces,  loses  its  trans- 
parency, and  increases  in  toughness  and  density. 

Of  the  six  muscles  of  the  eye,  four  are  called  recti  or 
straight,  and  two  oUique.  The  four  recti  muscles  arise  from 
the  bony  socket  in  which  the  eye  is  placed,  around  the 
opening  where  the  optic  nerve  enters  from  the  brain  :  they 
are  all  inserted  in  the  anterior  external  surface  of  the  eyeball, 
their  attachments  being  respectively  on  the  upper,  under, 
outer,  and  inner  edges  of  the  sclerotic.  The  superior 
oblique  or  trochlear  muscle  arises  close  by  the  origin  of  the 
superior  straight  muscle,  and  passes  forw^ard  to  a  loop  of 
cartilage  ;  its  tendon  passes  through  the  loop,  and  is  reflected 
back,  and  inserted  on  the  upper  posterior  surface  of  the  eye- 
ball. The  inferior  oblique  muscle  arises  from  the  internal 
inferior  angle  of  the  fore  part  of  the  orbit,  and  is  inserted 
into  the  internal  inferior  surface  of  the  eyeball,  behind  the 
middle  of  the  ball. 

The  motions  of  the  eyeball  that  would  be  caused  by  the 
contractions  of  any  of  these  muscles  are  not  difficult  to  trace. 
The  inferior  muscle,  by  its  contraction,  will  make  the  ball 
revolve  so  as  to  look  downwards ;  the  superior  straight 
muscle  will  make  it  look  upwards.  The  internal  and  ex- 
ternal recti  will  give  it  their  respective  directions, — the  one 
inward,  the  other  outward.  The  action  of  the  trochlear 
muscle  is  pecuHar.  Inasmuch  as  it  is  reflected  backward 
to  be  inserted  in  the  globe  of  the  eye,  it  will  turn  the  eye- 
ball downwards  and  outwards ;  that  is,  the  eye  would,  by 
its  action,  look  obliquely  downwards  and  outwards.  The 
inferior  oblique  muscle,  having  its  origin  in  the  fore  part  of 
the  orbit,  and  its  insertion  in  the  inner  side  of  the  eyeball, 
will,  by  its  contraction,  also  turn  the  eye  upwards  and 
inwards. 

The  following  extract  froin  Foster  may  help  to  explain 
the  complications  growing  out  of  the  difl"erent  groupings  of 


236  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

the   muscles   in   the   various    situations   assumed   by   each 
eyeball : — 

'  The  six  muscles  therefore  would  seem  to  act  as  three  pairs, 
the  superior  and  inferior  rectus,  the  internal  and  external  rectus, 
and  the  inferior  and  superior  oblique,  each  pair  rotating  the  eye- 
ball round  a  particular  axis.  Calculations  based  on  a  careful  study 
of  the  attachments  and  directions  of  the  several  muscles,  and 
the  results  of  actual  observations,  show  that  this  is  so,  and  that 
the  movements  carried  out  by  the  several  pairs  may  be  more 
accurately  described  as  follows. 

'  The  superior  rectus  and  the  inferior  rectus  rotate  the  eye 
round  a  horizontal  axis,  which  may  be  described  as  one  directed 
from  the  root  of  the  nose  to  the  temple  ;  it  is  therefore  not  a  line 
at  right  angles  with  the  visual  axis  but  one  making  an  acute  angle 
(20°)  with  such  a  line.  The  superior  and  inferior  oblique  rotate 
the  eye  round  a  horizontal  axis  which  may  be  described  as  one 
directed  from  the  centre  of  the  eyeball  to  the  occiput ;  it  again  is 
not  a  line  at  right  angles  to  the  visual  axis,  but  makes  an  angle, 
with  such  a  line,  larger  (60°)  than  the  similar  angle  made  by  the 
inferior  and  superior  rectus,  and  turned  in  a  different  direction. 
The  internal  rectus  and  external  rectus  rotate  the  eyeball  round 
a  vertical  axis  passing  through  the  centre  of  rotation  of  the  eyeball 
parallel  to  the  medium  plane  of  the  head  when  the  head  is 
vertical ;  this  therefore  is  at  right  angles  to  the  visual  axis,  and 
so  differs  from  the  other  two. 

'  When  we  compare  the  movements  thus  effected  by  these 
several  pairs  of  muscles  with  the  movements  which  we  described 
above  as  the  ordinary  movements  of  the  eye,  namely  movements 
of  rotation  round  a  vertical  and  round  a  horizontal  axis  both  at 
right  angles  to  the  visual  axis,  we  see  that  it  is  only  the  move- 
ments round  the  vertical  axis  which  can  be  carried  out  by  one 
pair  of  muscles  acting  alone,  the  particular  pair  being  the  internal 
and.  external  rectus.  Neither  the  horizontal  axis  of  rotation  of 
the  inferior  and  the  superior  rectus,  nor  that  of  the  oblique 
muscles,  is  placed  exactly  at  right  angles  to  the  visual  axis  ;  each 
of  them  makes  an  oblique  angle  with  that  axis.  Hence  when  in 
carrying  out  the  ordinary  movements  of  the  eye  we  rotate  the 
eyeball  round  the  horizontal  axis,  we  do  not  employ  either  of 


CONDITIONS    OF   VISION.  237 

these  pairs  of  muscles  alone,  but  combine  them,  making  use  of 
one  muscle  of  one  pair  with  one  of  the  other.  The  superior  and 
inferior  rectus  in  moving  the  visual  axis  up  and  down  also  turn 
it  somewhat  inwards,  to  the  nasal  side ;  but  this  is  corrected  if 
the  obhque  muscles  act  at  the  same  time  ;  and  it  is  found  that 
the  rectus  superior  acting  with  the  inferior  oblique  moves  the 
visual  axis  directly  upwards,  and  the  rectus  inferior  acting  with 
the  superior  oblique  directly  downwards  in  a  vertical  direction ; 
that  is  to  say  the  two  combinations  rotate  the  eyeball  round  a 
horizontal  axis  at  right  angles  to  the  visual  axis. 

'  Hence  there  are  only  two  movements  of  the  eyeball  which  we 
can  carry  out  by  the  help  of  one  muscle  alone,  namely,  that  in 
which  we  simply  turn  the  visual  axis  to  the  nasal  side,  employing 
the  internal  rectus,  and  that  in  which  we  turn  it  to  the  temporal 
side,  employing  the  external  rectus,  the  visual  axis  in  both  cases 
remaining  in  the  same  plane,  the  visual  plane.  In  order  to  raise 
or  lower  the  visual  axis  in  the  same  vertical  plane,  without- 
lateral  movement,  we  must  use  two  muscles ;  and  if  we  wish  to 
execute  an  oblique  movement  combining  an  up  and  down  with  a 
side  to  side  movement  of  the  visual  axis  we  must  employ  three  of 
the  ocular  muscles  '  {Phys.,  p.  1383). 

3.  Such  being  the  mechanism  of  the  eye,  I  must  now 
touch  briefly  upon  its  mode  of  acting  as  the  organ  of  sight. 
The  optical  part  of  the  process  is  well  enough  understood. 
When  the  eye  is  directed  to  any  object,  an  image  of  that 
object  is  depicted  on  the  back  of  the  eye,  by  means  of  the 
rays  of  light  entering  the  pupil,  and  is  duly  refracted  by  the 
different  humours.  The  precise  mode  of  stimulating  the 
nervous  filaments  of  the  retina  is  not  known  ;  but  the 
pigment  cells  of  the  choroid  play  an  important  part, 
being  themselves  highly  absorbent  of  light :  where  they 
are  not  found,  as  at  the  place  of  entrance  of  the  optic 
nerve,  there  is  no  power  of  vision  (the  bhnd  spot).  In 
order  to  perfect  vision,  the  following  further  conditions  are 
necessary : — 

(1)  A  sufficiency  of  light  or  illumination  in  the  object 
viewed.     This  is  an  obvious  necessity.      We  judge  of  the 


238  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

quantity  of  light  present  by  the  power  we  have  of  seeing 
objects  distinctly.  Some  animals  can  see  with  much  less 
light  than  others,  and  to  such  the  noonday  sun  must  be 
painful. 

(2)  The  formation  of  the  image  exactly  on  the  retina, 
and  not  before  or  behind.  The  focus  of  the  image  must 
coincide  with  the  retina.  If  this  is  not  the  case,  the  image 
is  indistinct ;  the  rays  of  light  either  do  not  converge,  or 
have  begun  to  disperse,  at  the  back  of  the  eye.  The  perfect 
convergence  of  the  image  by  the  lenses  constituting  the  ball 
of  the  eye,  depends  on  the  distance  of  the  object,  and  also, 
in  some  degree,  on  the  self-adjustment  of  the  eye.  '  As  this 
power  of  adaptation  of  the  eye  itself  for  vision,  at  different 
distances,  has  its  limits,  there  is  in  every  individual  a  dis- 
tance at  which  he  sees  most  distinctly,  and  at  which  the 
■focus  of  the  image,  formed  by  the  refracting  media  of  the 
eye,  corresponds  most  accurately  with  the  situation  of  the 
retina.  This  distance  may  be  stated  at  from  five  to  ten 
inches,  in  the  majority  of  individuals.  Objects  which  are 
too  near  the  eye  throw  very  indistinct  images  upon  the 
retina ;  a  slender  body,  such  as  a  pin,  held  close  to  the  eye, 
cannot  be  seen  at  all,  or  produces  only  an  undefined  im- 
pression on  the  retina.  Few  persons,  on  the  other  hand, 
are  able  to  read  print  at  a  much  greater  distance  than 
twenty  inches.' 

(3)  The  third  condition  of  perfect  vision  is  the  minute 
size  of  the  subdivisions  of  the  retina  capable  of  independent 
sensation.  We  are  sensitive  to  very  minute  lines  and  points  ; 
and  there  is  a  limit  of  minuteness,  where  a  number  of 
distinct  lines  would  seem  as  one.  This  is  the  limit  of  the 
optical  subdivision  of  the  retina,  analogous  to  the  intervals 
of  double  sensation  in  touch. 

It  appears  that  minuteness  of  discrimination  is  aided  by 
the  following  circumstances : — 1.  An  intense  light  will  enable 
a  smaller  object  to  be  seen.  2.  A  white  picture  can  be  seen 
smaller  than  a  blue.  3.  A  line  can  be  seen  better  than  a 
point  of  the  same  diameter.     The  smallest  angle  for  a  round 


SUPERIOEITY    OF    THE    EYE.  289 

body  is  20"  ;  a  thread-like  object  is  discernible  under  an 
angle  of  3";  a  glancing  wire  can  impress  the  eye  at  an  angle 
of  i".  According  to  Weber  and  Volkmann,  two  bright  lines 
must  be  separated  at  least  from  tj-oVo  ^o  t^s-tto  ot  an  inch  on 
the  yellow  spot  to  give  a  double  sensation ;  which  is  an 
estimate  quite  compatible  with  the  observed  minuteness  of 
the  fibres  and  vesicles  of  the  retina,  supposing  each  of  these 
capable  of  conveying  an  independent  impression  to  the 
brain. 

The  power  of  discrimination  diminishes  rapidly  as  the 
impression  recedes  from  the  yellow  spot.  At  a  point  60° 
from  the  centre  of  the  spot,  an  object  must  be  150  times 
larger,  in  order  to  be  distinguished.  Thus,  although  the  eye 
can  take  in  a  wide  field  at  once,  the  power  of  minute  observa- 
tion is  confined  to  a  very  small  part  in  the  centre  of  the 
retina.* 

The  great  superiority  of  the  eye,  as  a  medium  for  per- 
ceiving the  outer  world,  lies  in  this  power  of  independent 
sensibility  to  minute  points.  I  have  already  adverted  to  the 
distinction  between  the  lower  and  the  higher  senses  in  this 

*  Another  condition  of  perfect  vision  has  been  suggested  by  the  following 
experiments  of  Wundt : — If  a  small  piece  of  red  paper  is  held  before  the  eye, 
and  then  moved  to  one  side  without  the  eye  following  it,  so  that  the  im- 
pression is  made  first  on  the  yellow  spot,  and  then  on  the  lateral  parts  of  the 
retina,  the  colour  is  variously  seen.  To  the  yellow  spot,  the  paper  is  red  ;  as 
it  moves  sideways,  it  becomes  darker  ;  gradually,  it  assumes  a  bluish  tint, 
and,  at  last,  it  appears  perfectly  black.  Similar  variations  occur  with  any 
other  colour,  simple  or  mixed,  and  also  with  white,  which  unites  all  the 
colours.  The  last  in  the  series  is,  in  all  cases,  black.  Whence,  it  appears 
that  different  parts  of  the  retina  are  differently  sensitive  to  impressions  of 
colour.  The  variation  occurs  in  the  same  order  in  every  direction,  but  with 
unequal  rapidity.  The  series  is  passed  through  quicker,  when  the  object  is 
moved  outwards,  than  when  it  is  moved  inwards ;  and,  also,  quicker  for  the 
upward  than  for  the  downward  movement.  It  does  not  follow  that,  in 
looking  at  a  wide  expanse  of  one  colour,  we  see  the  gradations  of  tint  in 
concentric  rings.  This  is  only  one  of  many  cases  where  the  mind  overbears 
the  sense.  We  have  derived  our  notion  of  each  surface  from  the  way  that  its 
parts  affect  us  when  brought  successively  before  the  yellow  spot — the  place  of 
minute  examination, — and  what  we  seem  to  see  is  the  habitual  effect,  rather 
than  the  effect  at  the  instant. 


240  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

particular.  The  nerve  of  vision  must  needs  consist  of  a 
number  of  independent  fibres  maintaining  their  distinctness 
all  the  way  to  the  brain,  and  capable  of  causing  distinct 
waves  of  diffusion  throughout  the  entire  cerebral  mass ; 
every  one  of  these  many  thousand  impressions  varying  the 
mental  experience,  and  originating  a  distinct  volition.  We 
shall  probably  meet  with  no  fact  attesting  more  conspicuously 
the  complexity,  and  yet  the  separateness,  of  action  of  the 
cerebral  system.  AVe  can  easily  satisfy  ourselves  of  the 
reason  why  the  cerebral  hemispheres  should  be  necessary 
to  vision,  considering  what  is  thus  implied  in  every  instance 
of  seeing  whatsoever. 

4.  TJie  Ada/ptation  of  the  Eye  to  Vision  at  Different  Distances. 
— If  I  see  an  object  distinctly  six  inches  distant  from  the 
eye,  all  objects  at  a  greater  distance  are  indistinct.  The 
image  of  the  near  object  falls  correctly  on  the  retina ;  the 
images  of  remote  objects  are  formed  in  front  of  the 
retina.  By  a  voluntary  effort,  I  can  adapt  the  eye  to  see 
a  far-off  object  with  tolerable  clearness ;  but  it  then 
happens  that  any  near  body  becomes  confused.  The 
questions  arise — What  is  the  change  produced  upon  the 
eyeball,  in  the  course  of  this  adaj^tation  from  near  to 
far,  and  from  far  to  near ;  and  what  apparatus  effects  the 
change  ? 

In  seeing  close  at  hand,  the  crystalline  lens  becomes 
thicker  and  more  convex  in  front ;  in  seeing  at  a  distance, 
the  surface  is  flattened.  The  change  of  curvature  is  con- 
siderable. The  centre-point  bulges  out  j^-th  of  an  inch  for 
near  vision.  A  very  slight  increase  takes  place  in  the 
curvature  of  the  hinder  surface. 

The  changes  of  curvature  depend  on  the  action  of  the 
ciliary  muscle.  This  muscle  contracts  for  near  vision.  The 
effect  of  the  contraction  is  to  draw  the  choroid  membrane 
forwards,  and,  by  that  means,  to  compress  the  vitreous 
humour,  which  exerts  a  pressure  on  the  lens,  pushing  it 
forwards.  At  the  same  time,  the  muscular  fibres  of  the  iris 
come  into  play,  contracting  the  pupil  and  also  the  outer 


ADAPTATION    OF    THE    EYE    TO    DISTANCE.  241 

circumference.  This  brings  a  pressure  to  bear  upon  the  lens 
from  before,  but  not  an  equal  pressure ;  it  is  least  at  the 
centre,  and  greatest  towards  the  edges.  Between  these  two 
pressures,  from  behind  and  before,  the  lens  is  bulged  out  in 
the  middle,  and  its  curvature  increased.  Thus,  for  near 
vision,  there  is  a  very  considerable  muscular  action  :  when 
looking  at  anything  close,  we  are  conscious  of  a  strain  in 
the  interior  of  the  ball.  For  distant  vision,  this  action  is 
relaxed,  and  the  inherent  elasticity  of  the  parts  restores  the 
flattening  of  the  lens.  Hence,  the  natural  repose  of  the  eye 
makes  the  adjustment  for  a  distant  prospect.* 

The  eyeball  is  subject  to  alteration  chiefly  for  near  dis- 
tances. Between  the  smallest  visible  distance  (say  four 
inches),  and  three  feet,  nearly  the  whole  range  of  the  adjust- 
ment is  gone  through.  When  we  compare  distant  objects 
of  varying  remoteness,  as,  for  example,  thirty  feet  with  One 
hundred,  or  a  thousand,  very  little  change  is  effected  on  the 
form  of  the  eyeball,  the  adjustment  then  depending  on  the 
greater  or  less  convergence  of  the  two  eyes.  This  leads  to 
the  subject  of  binocular  vision. 

5.  Single  Vision  tvith  Two  Eyes.  Binocular  Vision. — 
Among  the  questions  long  discussed  in  connexion  with  sight, 
was  included  the  inquiry,  Why  with  two  eyes  do  we  see 
objects  single  ?  Answers  more  or  less  satisfactory  were 
formerly  attempted ;  but,  since  the  year  1838,  an  entirely 
new  turn  has  been  given  to  the  discussion.  In  that  year, 
Professor  Wheatstone  gave  to  the  Royal  Society  his  paper 
on  Binocular  Vision,  wherein  he  described  his  '  stereoscope,' 


*  The  limits  of  monocular  vision  are  illustrated  by  the  following  experi- 
ment. If  a  thread  is  moved  against  a  white  wall,  and  we  observe  it  with  one 
eye  through  a  tube,  we  can  detect  a  difference  when  it  is  moved  nearer,  but 
not  when  it  is  moved  farther  away.  This  is  consistent  with  the  circumstance, 
tViat,  in  changing  to  near  vision,  we  cause  a  muscle  to  contract,  while  in 
changing  to  a  more  distant  view,  tlie  proper  elasticity  of  the  parts  releases  an 
existing  contraction.  So,  under  the  same  circumstances,  we  may  estimate 
the  interval  moved  over  by  the  thread,  when  it  is  brought  nearer  ;  but  we  can 
form  no  estimate  of  the  absolute  distance  (Wundt). 

16 


242 


SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 


or  instrument  for  imitating  and  illustrating  the  action  of  the 
two  eyes  in  producing  single  vision.  The  following  quota- 
tion is  from  the  opening  paragraph  : — 

'  When  an  object  is  viewed  at  so  great  a  distance  that  the 
optic  axes  of  both  eyes  are  sensibly  parallel  when  directed  towards 
it,  the  perspective  projections  of  each,  seen  by  each  eye  separately, 
are  similar,  and  the  appearance  to  the  two  eyes  is  precisely  the 
same  as  when  the  object  is  seen  by  one  eye  only.  There  is  in 
such  case  no  difference  between  the  visual  appearance  of  an 
object  in  relief,  and  its  perspective  projection  on  a  plane  surface ; 
and  hence  pictorial  representations  of  distant  objects,  when  those 
circumstances  which  would  prevent  or  disturb  the  illusion  are 
carefully  excluded,  may  be  rendered  such  perfect  resemblances  of 
the  objects  they  are  intended  to  represent,  as  to  be  mistaken  for 
them ;  the  Diorama  is  an  instance  of  this.  But  this  similarity 
no  longer  exists  when  the  object  is  placed  so  near  the  eyes  that 
to  view  it  the  optic  axes*  must  converge ;  and  these  perspectives 
are  more  dissimilar  as  the  convergence  of  the  optic  axes  becomes 
greater.  This  fact  may  be  easily  verified  by  placing  any  figure  of 
three  dimensions — an  outline  cube,  for  instance — at  a  moderate 
distance  before  the  eyes,  and  while  the  head  is  kept  perfectly 
steady,  viewing  it  with  each  eye  successively  while  the  other  is 
closed.     The  figure  represents  the  two  perspective  projections  of 


Fig.  15. 


/] / 

/        V 


d 


\ 

\ 

\ 

\ 

\ 

a  cube ;  a  is  seen  by  the  right  eye,  and  d  is  the  view  presented  to 
the  left  eye,  the  figure  being  supposed  to  be  placed  about  seven 
inches  immediately  before  the  spectator.' 

*The  optic  axis  of  the  eye  is  the  line  of  visible  direction  for  distinct 
vision,  or  a  line  proceeding  from  the  central  point  of  the  retina,  and  passing 
through  the  centres  of  the  lenses  of  the  eye. 


BINOCULAR   VISION.  243 

'  It  will  now  be  obvious  why  it  is  impossible  for  the  artist  to 
give  a  faithful  representation  of  any  near  solid  object,  that  is  to 
produce  a  painting  which  shall  not  be  distinguished  in  the  mind 
from  the  object  itself.  When  the  painting  and  the  object  are 
seen  with  both  eyes,  in  the  case  of  the  painting,  two  similar 
pictures  are  projected  on  the  retinae,  in  the  case  of  the  solid 
object,  the  pictures  are  dissimilar  ;  there  is  therefore  an  essential 
diiference  between  the  impressions  on  the  organs  of  sensation  in 
the  two  cases,  and  consequently  between  the  perceptions  formed 
in  the  mind  ;  the  painting,  therefore,  cannot  be  confounded  with 
the  solid  object.' 

Thus,  the  dissimilarity  of  the  pictures  is  the  chief  optical 
sign  of  solidity  or  of  three  dimensions.  The  greater  the  dis- 
similarity, the  more  decidedly  is  a  third  dimension  suggested ; 
perfect  similarity  occurs  in  looking  at  things  very  remote,  or 
in  examining  a  surface  at  right  angles  to  the  line  of  vision, 
all  the  parts  being  equally  distant.  The  stereoscope  gives 
the  illusion  of  solid  effect  by  presenting  to  the  two  eyes 
dissimilar  pictures,  imitating  the  natural  presentation  in  the 
case  of  an  object  or  a  scene  unequally  removed  from  the  eye. 

A  great  difficulty  is  experienced  in  explaining  binocular 
vision,  through  mistaking  the  exact  nature  of  the  effect  pro- 
duced upon  the  mind  by  the  impression  made  on  the  eye  on 
one  single  occasion.  We  are  apt  to  suppose  that  the  entire 
conscious  state  at  any  one  moment — the  full  imagery  pic- 
tured to  our  view — -is  determined  by  the  rays  affecting  the 
retina  at  that  moment.  The  truth  is,  that  what  rises  to  the 
mind  on  the  sight  of  an  outward  thing,  is  an  aggregate  of 
past  impressions,  which  the  impression  of  the  moment 
suggests  but  does  not  constitute.  The  education  of  the 
sense  of  sight  makes  us  aware  that  an  identical  impression 
upon  both  eyes  concurs  either  with  great  distance,  or  with 
mere  surface, — that  is,  with  two  dimensions  only, — there  being 
no  inequality  of  distance  from  the  eye.  On  the  other  hand, 
unlikeness  of  picture  corresponds  with  the  introduction  of  the 
element  of  unequal  distance ;  and  the  more  this  inequality 
exists,  the  greater  is  the  dissimilarity.      Accordingly,  the 


244  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

mind,  instead  of  being  perplexed  with  double  images,  at  once 
adopts  the  notion  of  a  single  complex  object  with  varying 
remoteness ;  the  variation  being  estimated,  among  other  signs, 
by  this  very  unlikeness  of  the  pictures.  It  is  immaterial 
whether  the  retinal  presentations  be  two,  as  in  binocular  vision, 
or  thousands,  as  in  the  vision  of  insects  :  these  presentations 
are  but  the  hint  to  a  mental  construction,  representing  the 
unity  of  the  external  scene,  in  its  length,  breadth,  and  depth. 
The  question  of  binocular  vision  has  been,  since  Wheatstone's 
time,  very  largely  discussed,  and  has  been  made  the  subject  of 
exceedingly  elaborate  investigation  by  means  of  experiment.  It 
has  entwined  with  itself  a  number  of  other  profound  questions, — 
such  as,  the  ultimate  groundwork  of  our  notions  of  Space,  Solidity, 
and  External  Reality.* 

*  For  criticism  of  Wheatstone's  theory,  see  Le  Conte,  Sight,  International 
Scientific  Series,  i.  p.  145.  The  following  quotation  indicates  the  more  modern 
view,  verifiable  by  simple  experiments  : — '  All  objects  or  points  of  objects, 
either  beyond  or  nearer  than  the  point  of  sight,  are  doubled,  but  differently — 
the  former  homonymously,  the  latter  heteronymously.  The  double  images  in 
the  former  case  are  united  by  less  convergence,  in  the  latter  case  by  greater 
convergence,  of  the  optic  axes.  Now,  the  observer  knows  instinctively  and 
tvithout  trial  [this  as  against  Briicke's  theory  of  incessant  unconscious  motion 
between  near  and  far],  in  any  case  of  double  images,  whether  they  will  be 
united  by  greater  or  less  optic  convergence,  and  therefore  never  makes  a 
mistake,  or  attempts  to  unite  by  making  a  wrong  movement  of  the  optic  axis. 
In  other  words,  the  eye  (or  the  mind)  instinctively  distinguishes  homonymous 
from  heteronjTnous  images,  referring  the  former  to  objects  beyond,  and  the 
latter  to  objects  this  side  of,  the  point  of  sight  '  (Le  Conte,  Sight,  p.  151). 

A  careful  measurement  of  a  stereoscopic  photograph  will  show  that 
'  identical  points  in  the  foreground  are  always  nearer  together  than  identical 
points  in  the  backgi'ound  ;  therefore,  when  the  background  is  united  the 
foreground  is  double,  and  vice  versa  '  (ib.,  p.  130).  If  the  stereoscopic  photo- 
graph pictures  are  transposed,  so  that  left  becomes  right,  and  right  left,  the 
identical  points,  formerly  near,  are  now  far,  and  rice  versa.  On  combining  with 
the  stereoscope,  the  perspective  is  found  to  be  reversed — a  soUd  becoming 
hollow,  and  a  hollow  solid.  If,  while  still  maintaining  the  transposition,  we 
so  converge  the  eyes  by  squinting  that  the  original  right  image  falls  on  the 
right  eye,  and  the  original  left  on  the  left  eye,  a  beautifully  defined  miniature 
forms  between  picture  and  face,  and  the  original  perspective  is  brought  out 
perfectly.  Thus,  by  alternately  combining  through  the  stereoscope,  which  is 
a  means  of  relaxing  the  accommodation,  and  then  combining  by  converging  so 
that  the  optic  axes  cross,  we  may  have  from  the  same  images,  first,  the  ordmary 
perspective,  and  then  the  reversed  perspective. 


THEORY  OF  THE  STEREOSCOPE.  245 

One  part  of  the  inquiry  has  taken  the  course  of  considering 
how  far  the  stimulation  of  corresponding  parts  of  the  two  retinas 
is  essential  to  singleness  of  vision.  The  amount  of  possible 
correspondence  of  points  identical  for  the  purpose  of  vision  has 
been  exhaustively  shown.  Only  near  the  centre  of  vision,  in  the 
yellow  spot,  can  there  be  absolute  correspondence  of  the  parts  of 
the  two  retinas  exposed  to  one  and  the  same  object.  As  we 
retreat  from  the  centre,  the  points  affected  cease  to  correspond 
in  such  a  way  as  to  make  an  absolutely  single  impression. 
Hence,  if  such  coiTespondence  were  indispensable,  oui-  vision  of 
any  object  would  be  single  at  the  point  of  direct  observation, 
or  concentration  of  regard,  while  all  round  would  be  a  mass  of 
double  images.  Thus,  by  sensation  alone,  pure  and  simple,  single 
vision  of  any  extended  surface  would  be  impossible.  There  must 
be  some  way  out  of  this  difficulty. 

The  theory  of  the  stereoscope  comes  to  our  aid.  It  must, 
however,  be  supplemented  by  the  assumption  of  a  long  course  of 
experience, — education,  it  maj'  be,  assisted  by  evolution, — whereby 
we  habitually  disregard  the  actual  sensation  of  the  moment  and 
form  a  judgment  wholly  at  variance  with  it.  We  have  come  to 
treat  the  dissimilar  pictm-es  on  the  two  eyes,  when  directed  upon 
the  same  object,  as  signs  of  something  that  we  do  not  see  bv 
direct  and  immediate  vision,  but  infer  as  a  consequence  of  in- 
numerable experiments  carried  on  during  our  lifetime,  and  pos- 
sibly assisted  by  heredity.  Looking  down  a  vista,  if  we  were 
conscious  of  the  literal  result  of  the  binocular  sensation,  we 
should  treat  it  as  a  fiat  picture,  the  centre  parts  single,  the 
circumferential  double  all  through.  In  fact,  it  is,  seemingly,  not 
now  in  our  power  to  realize  such  an  interpretation  ;  we  have 
been  so  completely  educated  into  the  other  view  of  it.  Indeed,  so 
thorough  and  unvarying  is  the  procedure  of  the  mind  in  the 
acquired  interpretation,  that  many  have  accounted  it  absolutely 
instinctive. 

The  whole  question  of  pex'ception  of  solidity,  or  three  dimen- 
sions, contains  as  one  of  its  essential  parts  this  assumption  as  to 
the  influence  of  dissimilar  pictures  in  overbearing  the  primary 
optical  impression  that  these  would  produce.  Co-operating  with 
this  assumption  is  the  influence  of  the  ocular  muscles  in  directing 
the  various   movements   of   both   eyes.     Much   controversy  has 


246  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

surrounded  this  subject  likewise.  It  is  a  necessary  assumption 
of  the  theory  above  stated  that  the  eyes  should  be  in  full  and 
various  activity,  and  that  the  consciousness  should  participate  in 
the  resulting  feelings.  Not  only  so,  but  it  is  also  necessary  that 
other  experiences  of  movement  should  enter  into  the  education 
requisite  for  the  mighty  transformation  that  we  have  described. 
In  speaking  of  the  concurrence  of  the  two  eyes  in  the  per- 
ception of  solidity,  we  have  to  take  notice  of  the  fact  that  a 
perfect  fusion  of  the  binocular  effects,  supposed  equal  for  both 
eyes,  is  by  no  means  universal.  It  is  not  uncommon  for  one  eye 
to  take  a  lead  and  to  give  the  position  of  the  object,  while  the 
other  merely  contributes  to  the  perception  of  solidity.  The 
meaning  is  this.  Suppose  the  right  eye  to  take  the  principal 
share  in  the  picture  ;  the  closing  of  the  left  would  have  no  effect 
upon  the  visible  position,  while  the  closing  of  the  right  would 
shift  the  position  considerably  to  the  right  of  the  field  of  view. 
Experiments  upon  the  fusion  of  colours  presented  to  the  two  eyes, 
so  that  the  one  eye  might  see  one  and  the  other  eye  see  another, 
would  seem  to  show  that  fusion  is  only  occasional ;  sometimes 
the  composition  of  the  two  colours  is  affected,  and  sometimes  they 
still  appear  separate. 

6.  Before  quitting  the  consideration  of  the  Eye,  I  should 
mention  that,  the  seeing  of  objects  erect  hy  means  of  an  i7iverted 
image  on  the  retina,  has  been  conceived  as  a  phenomenon 
demanding  explanation.  But,  to  make  this  a  question  at  all, 
is  to  misapprehend  entirely  the  process  of  visual  perception. 
An  object  seems  to  us  to  be  up  or  down,  according  as  we 
raise  or  lower  the  pupil  of  the  eye  in  order  to  see  it ;  the 
very  notion  of  up  and  down  is  derived  from  our  feelings  of 
movement,  and  not  at  all  from  the  optical  image  formed  on 
the  back  of  the  eye.  Wherever  this  image  was  formed,  and 
however  it  lay,  we  should  consider  that  to  be  the  top  of  the 
object  which  we  had  to  raise  our  eyes  or  our  body  to  reach. 

7.  And,  now,  as  to  the  sensations,  or  the  proper  mental 
elements  of  Sight.  These  are  partly  optical,  resulting  from 
the  effect  of  light  on  the  retina  ;  and  partly  muscular,  arising 
through  the  action  of  the  various  muscles.  Nearly  all  sen- 
sations of  sight  combine  both  elements. 


SENSATION    OF    LIGHT.  247 

8.  I  shall  commence  with  the  sensation  of  mere  Light, 
and  shall  take  the  diffused  solar  radiance  as  the  leading 
example.  This  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  simple 
influences  that  affect  the  human  sense.  Light  is  eminently 
a  source  of  pleasure,  which  rises  in  degree,  within  certain 
limits,  in  proportion  to  the  abundance  of  the  luminous 
emanation.  The  degree  is  massive  or  acute,  according  as 
the  effect  proceeds  from  a  diffused  surface  like  the  sky,  or 
from  luminous  points  as  in  artificial  illumination.  In  either 
case,  it  is  possible  to  obtain  a  considerable  amount  of  pleasure 
from  this  source.  As  a  cheering  influence,  light  ranks  with 
warmth,  alimentation,  and  pleasant  repose.  On  the  principle 
of  Relativity,  the  full  effect  is  experienced  only  after  confine- 
ment in  the  dark. 

The  speciality  of  the  pleasures  of  light  is  their  endurable- 
ness.  The  influence,  although  powerful,  is  yet  gentle  ;  it 
does  not  exhaust  the  nerves  so  rapidly  as  sweet  tastes, 
pungent  odours,  or  loud  sounds.  This  is  the  great  distinction 
of  the  sense  of  sight.  Hearing  also  ranks  high  in  the  same 
property ;  but  we  must  still  assign  to  it,  as  a  rule,  the  second 
place.  One  of  the  things  understood  by  the  term  '  refine- 
ment,' as  applied  to  pleasure,  is  this  aptitude  for  being 
endured  a  great  length  of  time  without  palling  and  satiety. 
The  pleasures  of  sight  are  of  a  more  lasting  kind  than  those 
of  the  inferior  senses.  From  this,  and  from  some  other 
circumstances  that  I  do  not  here  advert  to,  they  enter  into 
the  feelings  of  the  Beautiful.  Light  and  shade,  and  the 
harmonious  arrangement  of  colours,  may  suffice  to  constitute 
a  work  of  Fine  Art. 

As  regards  Volition,  the  pleasures  of  light  so  far  accord  with 
the  general  rule  ;  that  is,  they  stimulate  the  will  in  proportion  to 
their  degree.  We  shun  gloomy  abodes  and  seek  the  cheerful  day, 
or  the  well-lighted  room  ;  when  the  sunlight  is  pamfully  exces- 
sive, we  I'etire  to  the  shade. 

There  is,  however,  a  remarkable  exception  to  this  general 
rule.  In  the  presence  of  a  light  too  strong  to  be  agreeable,  the 
eye  is  worked  upon,  as  by  a  spell  or  fascination,  and  we  continue 


248  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

gazing  upon  what  gives  pain  or  discomfort.  The  experimental 
proof  of  the  fact  is,  that  we  find  it  a  pleasing  relief  to  interpose  a 
screen  between  us  and  a  light  that  we  cannot  divert  the  eye  from, 
so  long  as  it  is  within  reach.  Human  beings  experience,  in  a 
small  degree,  the  fascination  that,  in  the  moth,  is  overpowering, 
even  to  self-destruction. 

This  is  the  first  clear  indication  of  the  existence  of  tendencies 
thwarting  the  regular  course  of  the  will  (w^hich  is  to  pleasure,  and 
from  pain) ;  and  constituting  us,  to  that  extent,  irrational  beings. 
Our  sensations  appear  to  have,  in  some  cases  at  least,  an  efficacy 
to  attract  and  detain  us,  not  only  while  wanting  in  pleasure,  but 
also  when  positively  painful.  (See  Contiguity,  Ideal  Feelings  of 
Movement.) 

With  reference  to  Intellect,  the  sensations  of  sight  have 
a  marked  superiority  in  the  scale  of  the  senses. 

The  pleasures  and  pains  of  sight  possess,  in  the  generality 
of  minds,  a  higher  ideal  persistence  and  recoverability  than 
the  feelings  of  any  other  sense.  If  there  be  any  exceptions 
to  this  rule,  they  are  probably  cases  of  unusual  endowment 
and  cultivation  of  the  sense  of  bearing. 

The  endurability  of  the  sensations  without  fatigue,  and 
the  comparative!}^  easy  persistence  in  memory  or  idea,  may 
proceed  from  the  same  fundamental  characteristic — the 
great  delicacy  of  the  shock  of  light  on  the  nervous  substance, 
as  compared  with  the  resulting  sensibility. 

In  the  most  properly  intellectual  aspect — the  bearings 
upon  knowledge, — the  superiority  of  sight  is  still  more  pro- 
nounced. The  sensations  admit  of  being  discriminated  and 
identified  in  the  highest  degree  ;  and  also  of  being  retained 
in  memory  as  images  of  surrounding  things. 

The  enjoyment  of  light,  like  other  pleasures,  demands 
alternation,  and  limitation  as  to  amomit.  In  sunny  climates, 
the  exposure  to  it  for  the  entire  day  is  excessive  and  ex- 
hausting ;  it  has  to  be  balanced  by  artificial  darkness  and 
shade.  Places  unable  to  afford  the  full  quantity  that  human 
beings  can  enjoy,  are  styled  gloomy  and  dull. 

9.   Colour  introduces   a   new  effect,   as    compared  with 


COLOUR.  249 

white  light.  By  a  measured  alternation  of  the  different 
colours  we  gain  a  new  pleasure,  which  has  all  the  distinguish- 
ing peculiarities  of  the  pleasure  of  light  and  shade.  The 
decomposition  of  the  solar  ray  into  certain  primary  colours, 
in  fixed  proportions,  is  so  far  a  key  to  the  harmony 
of  colouring,  or  to  the  alternation  most  agreeable  to  the 
mind. 

We  usually  speak  of  the  different  colours  as  having 
characteristic  effects  :  blue  and  green  are  reckoned  mild  or 
soft  ;  red  is  fiery,  pungent,  or  exciting.  The  eye,  when 
fatigued  with  the  glare  of  sunshine,  is  said  to  find  repose  in 
the  verdure  of  the  fields.  But  these  allegations  cannot  be 
maintained  in  an  absolute  sense.  Colour,  like  all  other 
things,  operates  in  accordance  with  the  principle  of  Kelati- 
vity.  The  effect  of  any  single  colour  is  due  to  the  transition 
from  others  felt  previously.  If  red  were  the  one  universal 
tint,  we  should  never  have  recognized  colour  at  all ;  we 
should  have  spoken  only  of  light  and  dark.  The  effects 
attributed  to  redness  are  due  to  its  contrast  with  the  pre- 
vailing tints  about  us.  Next  to  white  light  and  shades  of 
dull  grey,  we  are  familiarized  with  blue  and  green.  The 
balance  is  usually  in  favour  of  the  blue  end  of  the  spectrum, 
and,  hence,  the  occurrence  of  red  is  a  lively  stimulation.  If 
the  proportions  were  reversed  in  nature, — if  red  and  yellow 
took  the  place  of  blue  and  green, — these  last  would  be  the 
exciting  colours  :  they  would  have  the  freshness  of  rarity 
and  novelty.  The  pleasure  of  newly-discovered  shades  of 
colour,  may  be  owing  to  novelty  and  contrast.  The  varie- 
gated aspects  of  the  fields  and  gardens  in  the  bloom  of 
vegetation,  have  more  beauty  than  the  unbalanced  verdure 
of  the  leaf.  The  diffusion  of  red  and  yellow  supplies  the 
wanting  ingredients  of  the  picture.  The  colours  of  sunrise 
and  sunset  are  the  scenic  splendours  of  the  sky. 

The  strict  theory  of  spectral  balance,  good  as  far  as  it  goes, 
needs  to  be  supplemented  by  other  considerations,  in  order  to 
render  a   full  account  of  the  characteristic  pleasures  of  colour. 


250  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

Besides  the  main  fact  of  colour,  expressed  by  'tint,'  there  is  a 
distinction  in  the  richness  or  fulness  of  the  rays  conveying  the 
coloured  impression  :  this  may  vary  greatly  in  the  same  tint, 
and  the  enjoyment  will  vary  accordingly.  Another  circumstance 
is  the  mixture  of  white  light  with  a  colour:  this,  too,  has  an 
efficacy  in  heightening  pleasurable  impressions. 

Among  the  vast  range  of  distinguishable  colour  tints,  there  are 
some  that  appear  to  exercise  a  peculiar  fascination  when  realized 
in  dress  or  in  decorative  effects.  The  reason  of  such  superiority 
of  charm  is  not  always  apparent.  How  far  it  is  a  primitive  or 
intrinsic  property  is  rendered  difficult  of  ascertainment  from  the 
existence  of  adventitious  causes  of  the  nature  of  association, — as,  for 
example,  the  hues  of  a  fine  complexion  in  the  human  subject. 
No  doubt,  rarity  of  occurrence  may  have  an  influence  also.  The 
investigation  of  such  effects,  so  far  as  practicable,  belongs  rather 
to  the  higher  aesthetic  emotions  than  to  the  primary  sensations 
of  colour. 

10.  Artificial  lights  usually  fail  somewhat  in  the  propor- 
tions of  white  light,  and,  therefore,  have  the  pungency  of  an 
unbalanced  colour.  The  flame  of  a  fire  is  an  agreeable  stimu- 
lation ;  the  intensity  does  not  amount  to  a  painful  excess. 
The  light  of  a  lamp  arrests  and  detains  the  eye ;  the  fresh 
sensibility  of  childhood  is  delighted  with  the  effect,  and  soon 
learns  the  voluntary  movements  for  following  it  when  shifted 
about. 

11.  There  remains  to  be  noticed  the  sensation  oi  Lustre. 
The  lustrous  is  opposed  to  the  dull.  The  pleasure  of  lustre 
is  greater  than  the  pleasure  of  colour  alone. 

The  most  characteristic  effect  of  lustrous  bodies  is  the 
sparkle,  or  the  occurrence  of  bright  spots  in  the  midst  of 
comparative  darkness — a  marked  case  of  light  and  shade. 
This  is  a  combination  highly  favourable  to  the  agreeable 
stimulus  of  light.  Lustrous  bodies  have  a  mirror  surface, 
and  reflect  the  sun's  rays  in  beams ;  these,  starting  out  at 
points,  are  in  strong  contrast  to  the  remaining  surface. 

The  highest  beauty  of  visible  objects  is  obtained  by  lustre. 
The  metals  and  precious  gems  are  recommended  by  it.    The 


\t:sible  movements.  251 

finer  woods  yield  it  by  polish  and  varnish.  The  painter's 
colours  are  naturally  dead,  and  he  superadds  the  transparent 
film.  This  property  redeems  the  privation  of  colour,  as  in 
the  lustrous  black.  The  green  leaf  is  often  adorned  by  it, 
through  the  addition  of  moisture.  Possibly,  much  of  the 
refreshing  influence  of  greenness  in  vegetation  is  due  to 
lustrous  greenness.  Animal  tissues  present  the  effect  in  a 
high  degree.  Ivory,  mother  of  pearl,  bone,  silk,  and  wool 
are  of  the  class  of  brilliant  or  glittering  substances.  The 
human  skin  is  a  combination  of  richness  of  colouring  with 
lustre.  The  hair  is  beautiful  in  a  great  measure  from  its 
brilliancy.  The  eye  is  perhaps  the  finest  example :  the 
deep  black  of  the  choroid,  and  the  colours  of  the  iris,  are 
liquefied  by  the  transparency  of  the  humours. 

12.  AYe  have,  next,  to  deal  with  the  convplex  sensations  of 
sight, — those  resulting  from  the  combination  of  optical  effect 
with  the  feelings  of  movement  arising  out  of  the  muscles  of 
the  eyeball.  As  in  the  case  of  Touch,  this  combination  is 
necessary  as  a  basis  of  those  perceptions  of  the  external 
world  that  are  associated  with  sight-^Exteruality,  Motion, 
Form,  Distance,  Size,  Solidity,  and  relative  Position.  Mere 
light  and  colour  will  not  suffice  to  found  these  perceptions 
upon  ;  as  already  maintained,  in  the  exposition  of  Muscularitj' 
and  of  Touch,  it  is  necessary  to  refer  them  to  the  moving 
apparatus  of  the  eye  and  of  the  body  generally. 

13.  Visible  Movements. — One  of  the  earliest  acquired  of  our   --y 
voluntary  actions  is  the  pot\-er  of  following  a  moving  object 

by  the  sight.  Supposing  our  gaze  arrested  by  a  strong  light, 
as  a  candle-flame,  the  shifting  of  the  candle  would  draw  the 
eyes  after  it,  partly  through  their  own  movement,  and  partly 
by  the  rotation  of  the  head.  The  consequence  is  a  complex 
sensation  of  light  and  movement, — just  as  the  sensation  of  a 
weight  depressing  the  hand  is  a  sensation  of  touch  and 
movement.  If  the  flame  moves  to  the  right,  the  right 
muscles  are  engaged  in  following  it ;  if  to  the  left,  the  left 
muscles,  and  so  on.  Thus  we  have  several  distinct  com- 
binations of  light   and  muscular  impression,  marking  dis- 


252  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

tinctness  of  direction,  and  never  confounded  with  one 
another. 

Motion,  instead  of  continuing  in  one  direction,  may 
change  its  direction,  and  take  a  course  crooked  or  curved. 
This  brings  into  play  new  muscles  and  combinations,  and 
leaves  behind  a  different  record  of  muscular  action.  The 
right  muscles  of  the  eye  may  have  to  act  along  with  the 
superior  muscles,  and  at  a  shifting  rate.  This  gives  an 
oblique  and  slanting  direction,  which  we  can  ever  afterwards 
identify  when  the  same  muscles  are  similarly  brought  into 
operation.  We  have  thus  a  perfect  discrimination  of  varijing 
directions,  through  the  distinct  muscles  that  they  bring  into 
play. 

We  can,  with  the  eye,  as  with  other  active  organs,  dis- 
criminate the  greater  or  less  continuance  of  a  movement,  and 
can  thereby  estimate  Duration  in  the  first  instance,  and,  in  the 
next  place,  obtain  another  instrument  applicable  eventually 
to  estimating  Extended  Magnitude. 

Our  muscular  sensibility  also  discriminates  rate  or  velocity 
of  movement.  A  quick  movement  excites  a  different  feeling 
from  one  that  is  slow ;  and  we  thence  acquire  graduated 
sensations,  corresponding  to  degrees  of  speed,  up  to  a  certain 
limit  of  nicety.  This'estimate  of  the  rate  of  contraction  also 
indirectly  serves  as  a  means  of  judging  of  Extension,  after 
we  have  arrived  at  the  notion  of  visible  Space,  as  opposed  to 
Succession  in  Time. 

The  muscular  sensibility  of  the  dead  strain,  or  of  Resist- 
ance, can  scarcely  occur  in  the  eye  ;  there  being  nothing  to 
resist  its  movements  but  its  own  inertia.  Wliat  is  called 
straining  the  eye  (which  happens  in  close  and  minute  vision) 
is  not  the  same  thing  as  straining  the  arms  in  the  support  of 
a  heavy  w^eight.  Hence,  of  the  three  primary  sensibilities  of 
muscle — Resistance,  Continuance,  and  Speed, — two  only  be- 
long to  the  ocular  muscles.  Accordingly,  the  eye,  with  all 
its  superiority  in  giving  the  mind  the  pictorial  array  of  the 
extended  world,  cannot  be  said  to  include  the  fundamental 
consciousness  of  the  object  universe — the  sense  of  Resistance. 


SPECTACLE    OF    MOVING    OBJECTS.  253 

There  is  a  certain  kindred  sensibility  in  the  common  fact  of 
muscular  tension ;  but  it  is  by  association,  and  not  by 
intrinsic  susceptibility,  that  the  power  of  vision  impresses 
us  so  strongly  with  the  feeling  of  the  Object  world. 

While  the  retina  of  the  eye  is  receiving  one  and  the  same 
optical  impression  (in  the  supposed  case  of  the  candle-flame), 
this  may,  by  movement,  be  embedded  in  a  great  many  different 
muscular  impressions,  and  may  thus  go  to  constitute  a  great 
variety  of  pictorial  effects.  By  changing  the  muscles  and  by 
varying  their  rate  of  action,  we  may  so  change  the  resulting 
impressions,  that  any  one  motion  shall  be  recognized  by  us 
as  distinct  from  every  other,  while  each  may  be  identified  on 
a  recurrence. 

Many  of  the  pleasures  of  Muscular  Movement,  described 
in  the  previous  chapter,  may  be  experienced  in  the  spectacle 
of  moving  objects.  The  massive  languid  feeling  of  slow 
movement,  the  excitement  of  a  rapid  pace,  the  still  higher 
pleasure  of  a  waxing  or  waning  speed,  can  all  be  realized 
through  the  muscles  of  the  eye  and  the  head.  The  slow 
procession,  the  gallop  of  a  race-horse,  the  flight  of  a  cannon- 
ball,  exhibit  different  varieties  of  the  excitement  of  motion. 
In  the  motion  of  a  projectile,  where  a  rapid  horizontal  sweep 
is  accompanied  with  a  gentle  rise  and  fall,  we  have  one  set 
of  muscles  quickly  moved,  and  another  set  in  slow  varying 
tension,  thereby  contributing  the  still  more  agreeable  effect 
of  increasing  and  dying  motion.  While  the  projectile  flies 
across  the  field  of  view,  the  horizontal  motion  is  uniform,  but 
the  pace  upwards  diminishes,  and  at  last  dies  away  .  at  the 
highest  point.  The  body  then  recommences  a  downward 
course,  slow  at  first,  but  accelerating  until  it  reach  the 
ground.     Hence  the  beauty  of  curves. 

The  pleasures  of  moving  objects  and  stirring  spectacle 
count  for  much  in  the  excitement  of  human  life.  They  are 
really  pleasures  of  action ;  but,  inasmuch  as  only  a  very 
limited  portion  of  muscle  is  excited  by  them,  they  do  not 
constitute  bodily  exercise,  and  are,  therefore,  to  all  practical 
intents,  passive  pleasures,  like  music  or  sunshine.     Whence 


254  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

dramatic  display,  the  ballet,  the  circus,  the  horse  race,  games 
and  sports,  although  engaging  the  activity  of  the  eye,  do  not 
belong  properly  to  our  active  enjoj^ments.  They  may,  how- 
ever, be  the  means  of  stimulating  the  general  activity  of  the 
frame. 

Among  the  'permanent  imagery  of  the  intellect,  recalled, 
combined,  and  dwelt  upon  in  many  ways,  we  are  to  include 
visible  movements.  The  flight  of  a  bird  is  a  characteristic 
that  distinguishes  one  species  from  another;  and  the  impres- 
sion left  by  it  is  part  of  our  knowledge  or  recollection  of 
each  individual  kind.  The  gallop  of  a  horse  is  a  series  of 
moving  pictures,  which  leave  a  trace  behind  them,  and  are 
revived  as  such.  The  motions  that  constitute  the  carriage 
and  expression  of  an  animal,  or  a  man,  demand  particular 
movements  of  the  eye,  in  order  to  take  them  in  and  store 
them  up  among  our  permanent  notions.  All  the  gestures, 
modes  of  action,  and  changes  of  feature  that  emotion  inspires, 
are  visible  to  the  eye  as  an  assemblage  of  movements  ;  and 
we  recognize  such  movements  as  marking  agreement  or 
difference  among  individuals,  and  between  various  passions. 
Many  of  the  aspects  of  the  external  world  impress  them- 
selves upon  the  moving  apparatus  of  the  eye.  The  surface 
of  the  sea,  the  drifting  of  clouds,  the  fall  of  rain,  the  waving 
of  trees  in  the  wind,  the  rushing  of  water,  the  darting  of 
meteors,  the  rising  and  setting  of  the  sun — are  all  mixed 
impressions  of  spectacle  and  movement.  In  like  manner,  in 
the  various  processes  of  the  arts,  there  are  characteristic 
movements  that  constitute  our  means  of  discrimination,  and 
our  permanent  notions  of  those  processes.  The  evolutions 
of  an  army  have  to  be  remembered  as  movements,  and,  there- 
fore, need  to  be  embodied  among  the  muscular  recollections 
of  the  system. 

14.  Visible  Form. — We  have  taken  the  case  of  moving 
objects  as  the  least  complicated  experience  of  vision.  We 
must,  now,  inquire  by  what  process  we  perceive  Visible 
Form  and  Extension,  and  acquire  the  notion  of  Simultane- 
ous existence  in  Space.     It  has  to  be  shown  that  the  eye  is 


SUCCESSION   AND    CO-EXISTENCE.  255 

active  in  the  observation  even  of  still  life  ;  the  special  mode 
of  activity  being  such  as  to  make  the  mind  feel  the  difference 
between  Succession  and  Co-existence. 

When  we  follow  a  moving  object,  as  a  rocket,  or  a  bird, 
and  when  we  carry  the  eye  along  the  curve  of  the  rainbow, 
there  is  a  common  fact  of  movement,  with  important  dif- 
ferences in  the  mode.  These  differences  are,  to  a  great 
degree,  parallel  to  those  described  under  Touch,  whereby 
the  knowledge  of  objects  as  co-existing  is  attained.  (1)  In 
the  first  place,  in  following  the  outline  of  the  rainbow,  we 
are  not  constrained  to  any  one  pace  of  movement,  as  with  a 
bird  or  a  projectile.  This  alone  would  give  a  lively  sense  of 
difference  between  the  two  appearances.  (2)  In  the  next 
place,  the  optical  impression,  in  the  case  of  a  still  form,  is 
not  one  unchanging  sensation,  but  a  series  of  sensations, 
which  may  be  of  the  same  nature  (as  in  the  rainbow),  or 
may  be  all  different— as  in  sweeping  across  the  clouds  or  the 
landscape.  (3)  Thirdly,  we  can,  bj^  an  inverted  movement, 
encomiter  the  same  series  of  optical  sensations,  in  the 
inverted  order ;  whereas,  in  the  other  case,  the  object 
passes  finally  away  from  the  sight.  (4)  In  the  fourth  place, 
we  may  repeat  the  movement,  at  any  rate  of  speed,  and  in 
so  doing  obtain  the  same  series  of  sensations,  in  the  same 
order.  Both  in  touch  and  in  sight,  this  result  is  pro- 
bably what,  more  than  anything  else,  gives  us  that  vivid 
sense  of  the  difference  between  objects  moving  and  passing 
away — thereby  typifying  Succession — and  objects  that  are 
simultaneous  or  co-exist,  which  is  the  meaning  of  Space. 
The  more  frequently  we  experience  such  fixed  recurrence  of 
optical  sensations,  in  company  with  a  definite  movement, 
the  broader  is  the  line  between  that  form  of  being  and 
the  objects  that  give  us  only  one  chance  of  observing  them. 
The  constant  reception  of  a  definite  series  of  sensations  by 
one  definite  movement,  and  the  equally  constant  occurrence 
of  the  series  inverted  under  an  inverted  movement,  go  far  to 
make  up  our  notion,  meaning,  and  expectation,  of  objects 
extended  in  Visible  Space. 


256  SENSE    OF    SIGHT. 

But,  (5)  in  the  fifth  place,  as  regards  Sight,  the  pecuhar 
power  of  the  eye  to  embrace  at  one  glance  a  wide  prospect, 
although  minutely  perceiving  only  a  small  portion,  is  avail- 
able to  confirm  the  same  distinction.  When  the  glance  is 
carried  along  the  field  of  view,  the  portions  that  cease  to 
occupy  the  centre  of  the  eye  still  impress  the  retina,  and 
have  a  place  in  the  consciousness,  though  much  less  dis- 
tinctly perceived.  This  constitutes  a  vital  distinction 
between  the  transitory  flight  of  a  meteor  and  the  picture  of 
the  starry  sphere.  Touch  possesses  this  means  of  discrimina- 
tion only  in  a  very  limited  degree.  The  extended  surface  of 
the  hand,  the  plurality  of  fingers,  the  united  touch  of  the  two 
hands,  and  such  extent  of  the  surface  of  the  body  as  can  make 
a  simultaneous  contact, — are  all  that  there  is  to  correspond 
to  this  great  prerogative  of  sight,  in  giving  a  plurality  of 
simultaneous  impressions,  so  as  to  markthe  difference  between 
the  co-existing  in -Space  and  the  successive  in  Time.  When 
a  definite  series  of  successive  sensations  are  simultaneouslij 
felt,  they  suggest  all  the  separate  facts  of  movement,  together 
with  the  whole  fact  of  movement,  involved  in  a  perception 
of  the  Extended. 

Thus,  then,  the  observation  of  the  foi-ms  of  still  life  is  a 
combination  of  the  movements  of  the  eye,  with  the  optical 
impressions  corresponding  to  the  different  parts  of  the  field 
of  view.  Exactly  as  in  the  case  of  moving  things — by  a 
horizontal  sweep,  we  take  in  a  horizontal  line  ;  by  a  circular 
sweep,  we  derive  the  muscular  impression  of  a  circle ;  by  a 
sudden  change  of  direction,  we  are  cognizant  of  an  angle ; 
there  being,  in  all  these  instances,  the  persistence  on  the 
retina  of  the  whole  figure,  while  the  eye  scans  the  successive 
parts. 

The  transition  is  easy  from  Lines  to  Surfaces.  A  more 
numerous  and  complex  series  of  movements  is  requisite  to 
give  the  impression  of  a  visible  area  or  superficies.  But 
the  same  constant  series  of  optical  effects,  embedded  in  the 
same  movements,  inverted  and  repeated  as  often  as  we  please, 
enters  into  the  cognition  of  space  in  two  dimensions,  as  well 


I 


APPARENT    SIZE.  257 

as  into  the  perception  of  linear  magnitude,  or  space  viewed 
in  one  dimension. 

15.  Apparent  Size. — The  apparent  size  or  visible  magni- 
tude is  made  up  of  the  two  discriminations — optical  and 
muscular.  The  Optical  discrimination  takes  place  through 
the  extent  of  the  image  on  the  retina ;  hence,  the  apparent 
size  is  spoken  of  by  Wheatstone  as  the  retinal  magnitude. 
The  Muscular  discrimination  depends  upon  the  sweep  of  the 
eye  under  the  action  of  its  muscles  ;  and  is,  therefore,  a  fact 
or  experience  of  our  muscular  energy  or  activity.  The  two 
estimates  co-operate  to  a  joint  result.  They  are  both  equiva- 
lent to  an  angular  estimate,  or  the  proportion  of  the  visible 
surface  to  a  whole  sphere.  The  apparent  diameter  of  the 
sun  or  moon  is  half  a  degree,  or  -|o  of  the  circle  of  the 
sky. 

The  combined  estimate  of  Ketinal  Magnitude,  by  our 
two  most  sensitive  organs — the  retina  and  the  ocular  group 
of  muscles, — renders  our  measurement  of  apparent  size  singu- 
larly delicate.  In  fact,  this  is  the  finest  discrimination 
within  the  compass  of  our  senses  ;  and,  whenever  we  desire 
to  measure  any  property  with  nicety,  we  endeavour  to  resolve 
the  case  into  a  comparison  of  visible  magnitudes.  Of  this 
description  are  the  standards  of  weight  (the  balance),  of  heat 
(the  thermometer),  and  many  others. 

The  fluctuations  of  visible  magnitude  in  consequence  of 
changes  of  Distance  are  appreciated  with  similar  delicacy ; 
and,  after  we  are  aware  that  these  fluctuations  correspond  to 
alteration  of  real  distance,  we  use  them  as  the  most  delicate 
test  of  remoteness. 

The  celestial  bodies  and  the  clouds  are  conceived  by  us 
under  their  apparent  or  visible  size  solely.  Terrestrial 
objects,  being  seen  by  us  at  different  distances,  vary  in 
apparent  size,  and  we  conceive  most  of  them  under  a  inore 
or  less  perfect  estimate  of  their  real  size,  as  ascertained 
by  handling  and  locomotion.  Failing  this  estimate,  we 
adopt  some  one  point  of  view,  which  we  have  been  most 
accustomed  to,  and  conceive  the  object  as  seen  from  thence. 

17 


258  SENSE    OF    SIGHT, 

In  regard  to  very  familiar  things,  as  a  chair,  or  a  man, 
we  uniformly  translate  the  apparent  estimate  into  a  real 
estimate.  A  building,  a  distant  mountain,  a  landscape,  are 
visually  conceived  as  they  appear  from  our  most  usual 
position  with  reference  to  them. 

16.  Distance,  or  Varying  Remoteness. — The  apparent  size, 
as  above  considered,  includes  only  two  dimensions.  In 
order  to  appreciate  apparent  volume  or  solidity,  as  an 
advance  upon  mere  extension,  or  surface,  we  must  estimate 
varying  remoteness  also. 

Leaving  out,  at  the  present  stage,  the  consideration  of 
real  distance,  as  well  as  real  magnitude,  we  ina.y  adv^ert  to 
the  various  ocular  sensibilities  affected  by  alteration  of 
distance. 

We  have  already  remarked  on  the  two  muscular  adapta- 
tions of  the  eye  to  distance, — the  change  in  the  eyeball  by 
the  operation  of  the  ciliary  muscle  for  near  distances,  and 
the  convergence  or  divergence  of  the  two  eyes  for  distances 
both  near  and  far.  To  preserve  a  distinct  image  when  an 
object  is  brought  nearer,  we  need,  by  a  muscular  effort,  to 
change  the  curvature  of  the  crystalline  lens  in  each  eye,  and 
to  make  the  lines  of  sight  of  the  two  eyes  converge.  Both 
these  efforts  are  attended  with  consciousness,  and  this  con- 
sciousness mingles  with  the  feelings  of  altered  retinal  mag- 
nitude, and  with  dissimilarity  of  binocular  images,  when 
objects  retreat  from  the  eye  or  advance  toward  it  ;  while, 
in  addition,  the  optical  fact  of  varjdng  clearness  may  also 
tell,  together  with  the  presence  or  absence  of  intervening 
objects. 

17.  Visible  Movements  and  Visible  Forms  in  Three  Dimen- 
sions :  Volume. — By  combining  the  visible  movements  across 
the  field  of  view  with  the  movements  of  adjustment — mon- 
ocular and  binocular, — we  attain  the  experience  of  visible 
movements,  visible  forms,  and  visible  magnitudes,  in  all  the 
three  dimensions  of  space ;  in  other  words,  volume  and 
solidity,  in  so  far  as  these  are  understood  by  the  eye  alone. 
An  object  moving  aslant  requires  changes  of  adjustment 


INTELLECTUAL  COMPASS  OF  THE  EYE.        259 

along  with  the  movements  of  the  eyeball,  right  or  left,  up  or 
down  ;  and  its  image  remains  embodied  in  this  more  compli- 
cated series  of  movements  and  optical  changes.  A  row  of 
houses  seen  obliquely  needs  the  same  combination.  With 
the  lateral  movements  of  the  eye,  we  must  unite  adjusting 
movements,  in  order  to  maintain  the  same  distinctness  of 
picture  throughout.  These  changes  of  adjustment  are  re- 
peated and  inverted,  along  with  the  other  movements,  and 
conspire  with  these  to  give  the  sense  of  the  co-existing  in 
space,  as  opposed  to  the  passing  or  successive  in  time. 

18.  The  intellectual  imagery  derived  through  the  eye 
from  the  forms  of  still  life  is  co-extensive  with  the  visible 
universe.  For  the  purposes  of  discriminating  and  of 
identifying  natural  things,  and  also  for  the  storing  of  the 
mind  with  knowledge  and  thought,  the  sensations  of  objects 
of  sight  are  available  beyond  any  other  class.  The  eye  is 
kept  constantly  at  work  upon  the  surrounding  scene,  follow- 
ing the  outlines  and  windings  of  form,  as  these  extend  in 
every  direction  ;  and,  by  the  movements  thus  stimulated, 
each  separate  object  is  distinguished  from  those  that  diifer, 
in  shape,  size,  or  distance,  and  identified  with  itself  and 
those  that  coincide  with  it  in  these  peculiarities.  The  train 
of  movements  for  a  square  are  recognized  as  distinct  from 
the  train  that  describes  an  oval :  the  outline  of  a  pillar  brings 
on  a  cycle  of  motions  wholly  different  from  those  dictated 
by  the  figure  of  a  tree.  The  power  we  possess  of  giving 
mental  coherence  to  movements  that  have  been  described 
in  succession,  fixes  the  series  for  each  different  view,  and 
gives  a  permanent  hold  of  all  the  distinct  forms  presented 
to  the  eye.  This  adhesive  process  belongs  to  the  intellect, 
and  will  be  fully  treated  of  in  the  proper  place. 


CHAPTEE   III. 

THE    APPETITES. 

1.  IT^HEN  the  Sensations  are  exhaustive!}'  described, 
'  *  inchiding  not  merely  the  Five  Senses,  but  the 
Muscular  and  Organic  Feelings,  there  is  nothing  left  for 
the  special  heading  of  Appetite  except  to  mark  and  sum- 
marize a  select  class  whose  importance  grows  out  of  their 
bearing  on  our  subsistence.  The  appetites  have  been  de- 
fined as  the  cravings  produced  by  the  recurring  wants  and 
necessities  of  our  bodily  or  organic  life.  In  detail,  they  are 
enumerated  as  Sleep,  Exercise,  Bepose,  Thirst,  Hunger,  Sex. 
Appetite  refers  more  particularly  to  the  active  side  of 
these  sensibilities, — that  is  to  say,  their  influence  on  the 
AVill.  Certain  wants  of  the  system  lead  to  a  condition  of 
pain,  with  the  natural  urgency  to  work  for  its  abatement 
or  removal.  The  conscious  relief  from  pain  is  followed 
by  an  accession  of  positive  pleasure,  which  provides  an 
additional  motive,  so  long  as  the  increase  continues.  The 
measure  of  the  voluntary  prompting  is  the  measure  of  the 
painful  and  pleasurable  feelings  involved  in  the  case. 

2.  The  fact  of  periodic  recurrence  is  in  no  case  more  strik- 
ingly exemplified  than  in  Sleep.  After  a  certain  period  of 
waking  activity,  there  supervenes  a  powerful  sensation  of  re- 
pose. If  we  give  way  to  it  at  once,  the  state  of  sleep  creeps 
over  ns,  and  we  pass  through  a  few  moments  of  agreeable 
repose  into  unconsciousness.  If  we  are  prevented  from 
3'ielding  to  the  sleepy  orgasm,  its  character  as  an  appetite  is 
brought  out  into  strong  relief.  The  voluminous  uneasiness 
that  possesses  all  the  muscles  and  organs  of  sense,  stimulates 
a  strong  resistance  to  the  power  that  keeps  us  awake  ;  the 
uneasiness  and  the  resistance  increasing  with  the  continued 


SLEEP. — EXEECISE    AND    REPOSE.  261 

refusal  of  the  permission  to  sleep,  until  the  condition  becomes 
intolerable,  or  until  a  reaction  ensues,  which  drives  off  the 
drowsiness  for  a  time.  The  ovei-powering  influence  of 
drowsiness  is  well  seen  in  infants. 

3.  The  necessit}'  of  alternating  Exercise  with  Repose, 
through  the  entire  range  of  our  active  organs,  brings  on  the 
like  periodic  cravings  and  deep-seated  uneasiness.  The  fresh 
condition  of  the  muscles  is  of  itself  a  sufticient  stimulus  to 
action  :  without  any  conscious  end, — in  other  words,  without 
our  willing  it, — action  commences  when  the  bod}'  is  refreshed 
and  invigorated.  If  this  spontaneous  outburst  is  checked,  an 
intense  uneasiness  is  felt,  being  one  of  the  conscious  states 
incident  to  the  muscular  system.  This  state  is  of  the  same 
nature  as  all  the  other  appetites,  and  increases  with  privation, 
unless,  by  some  organic  change,  the  fit  passes  over  for  the 
time.  The  dog  chained  up  to  his  couch,  the  child  restrained 
from  bursting  out  in  its  exuberance — experience  all  the  pains 
and  desire  of  the  active  organs  for  exercise.  On  the  other 
hand,  after  exercise,  comes  an  equally  powerful  craving  and 
impulse  to  rest,  which,  if  resisted,  produces  the  same  intense 
uneasiness. 

Under  this  head  of  Exercise  and  Kepose,  I  might  include 
the  more  active  of  our  senses, — that  is,  Touch,  Hearing  and 
Sight.  These  senses  all  embody  muscular  activitj^  along 
with  the  sensation  peculiar  to  each  ;  and  the  muscular 
activity,  together  with  the  tactile,  auditory,  and  visual  sen- 
sations, leads  to  weariness  of  the  parts,  with  a  craving  for  rest ; 
while  these,  after  due  repose,  resume  the  fresh  condition 
and  crave  for  the  renewal  of  their  excitement.  The  alternate 
exercise  and  rest  of  the  senses  is  in  a  great  measure  involved 
in  the  rotation  of  sleeping  and  waking ;  indeed,  the  invo- 
luntary torpor  of  the  nervous  system  is  almost  the  only 
means  of  giving  repose  to  senses  so  constantly  solicited  as 
sight,  touch,  and  hearing. 

A  similar  train  of  remarks  might  be  extended  to  the 
activity  of  the  Thinking  organs.  But,  in  these,  the  periodic 
cravings  are  less  distinctly  marked,   and  more   frequently 


262  THE    APPETITES. 

erroneous,  than  in  the  case  of  muscular  exercise.  There  is 
often  a  rehictance  to  engage  in  thought,  when  the  brain  is 
perfectly  vigorous  and  able  to  sustain  it  ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  is,  in  nervous  temperaments,  a  tendency  to  ex- 
cess of  mental  action,  uncorrected  by  any  regular  prompt- 
ings to  take  repose. 

The  feeling  of  fatigue,  arising  soon  after  beginning  a 
laborious  operation,  and  then  disappearing,  is  connected  with 
inaction  of  the  brain.  A  little  time  is  requisite  to  determine 
the  flow  of  blood  to  the  parts  exerted. 

4.  Thirst  and  Hunger  I  have  already  touched  upon. 
'  Wliat  is  called  thirst  is  sometimes  rather  a  call  for  the 
cooling  influence  of  cold  drinks,  as  for  instance,  in  the  dry, 
hot  state  of  the  air-passages,  mouth  and  skin,  produced  in 
fevers  by  the  increased  temperature  and  diminished  tur- 
gescence  of  the  parts.  Exhalation  is,  in  such  cases,  often 
rather  diminished,  and  the  dryness  of  the  surface  arises  from 
the  circumstance  that,  although  blood  still  flows  through 
the  capillary  vessels,  the  reciprocal  action  between  the  blood 
and  the  living  tissues,  which  is  denominated  turgescence,  or 
tm-gor  vitalis,  is  depressed '  (Milller,  by  Baly,  p.  530). 

Hunger,  unlike  Thirst,  is  due  to  a  state  of  the  stomach, 
as  yet  not  exactly  understood ;  while  the  feeling  of  inani- 
tion, which  also  grows  out  of  long  fasting,  must  be  con- 
sidered as  a  general  feeling  of  the  system.  The  urgenc}^  of 
hunger  ought  to  be  in  accordance  with  the  actual  deficiency 
of  nutritive  material ;  but,  very  frequently,  the  case  is  other- 
wise. '  It  is  heightened  by  cold  baths,  by  friction  of  the 
skin,  by  friction  of  the  abdomen,  and  by  the  agitation  to 
which  the  abdomen  is  subjected  in  horse  exercise,  as  well  as 
by  muscular  exertion.'  It  is  diminished  by  all  nauseating 
influences,  which,  probably,  at  the  same  time  weaken  the 
digestion.  '  The  local  sensations  of  hunger,'  says  Miiller, 
'  which  are  limited  to  the  digestive  organs,  and  appear  to 
have  their  seat  in  the  nervus  vagus,  are  feelings  of  pressure, 
of  motion,  contraction,  qualmishness,  with  borborygmi  (grip- 
ings),  and  finally  pain.' 


HUNGER — SEX.  263 

In  the  case  of  Hunger,  as  in  most  of  the  appetites,  there 
is  a  double  spur  to  the  taking  of  food  :  first,  the  stimuhis  of 
uneasiness,  and,  next,  the  impulse  arising  out  of  the  pleasure 
of  eating.  It  is  well  understood  that  these  two  things  are 
quite  different ;  and  on  their  difference  hangs  the  whole  art  of 
refined  cookery.  Very  plain  food  would  satisfy  the  craving 
for  nutrition  ;  but  there  is  a  superadded  pleasure  in  eating, 
which  we  have  to  cater  for.  The  one  is  the  appetite  in  its 
strictest  signification,  and,  presumably,  as  found  in  the  lower 
animals  ;  the  other  we  may  call  a  desire,  because  it  supposes 
the  remembrance  and  anticipation  of  a  positive  pleasure. 

It  is  in  the  process  of  taking  food  and  drink  that  we 
best  see  exemplified  the  activity  springing  out  of  the  sensa- 
tions of  hunger  and  thirst.  The  actual  assuaging  of  the 
uneasiness  produces  an  intense  pleasurable  sensation  that 
sets  on  the  most  vigorous  movements  for  being  continued 
and  increased  ;  while  the  moving  organs  themselves,  begin- 
ning to  be  invigorated,  display  a  spontaneous  and  lively 
energy  in  the  cause.  To  bring  together,  and  make  to  unite, 
the  sensation  of  the  appeasing  of  hunger  with  the  acts  of 
sucking,  prehension,  masticating,  and  swallowing,  is  perhaps 
the  earliest  link  of  volition  established  in  the  animal  system. 
This  is  the  first  case  of  action  for  an  end,  or  under  the 
prompting  and  guidance  of  a  feeling,  -that  the  newly-born 
infant  is  capable  of. 

Besides  the  natural  craving  for  the  elements  of  nutrition 
required  by  the  tissues,  we  may  acquire  artificial  cravings  by 
the  habitual  use  of  certain  forms  of  food,  and  certain  accoin- 
paniments,  as  peppers,  flavours,  etc.  Thus,  we  have  the 
alcoholic  craving,  the  craving  for  animal  food,  for  tea,  coffee, 
tobacco,  etc. 

5.  The  Appetite  that  brings  the  Sexes  together  is  founded 
on  peculiar  secretions  which  periodically  accumulate  within 
the  system,  producing  a  feeling  of  oppression  until  they  are 
either  discharged  or  absorbed  ;  there  being  a  certain  intense 
pleasure  in  discharging  them  for  the  ends  of  reproduction. 
If  we  were  to  ])lace  these  feelings  among  Sensations,  they 


264  THE    APPETITES. 

would  either  form  a  class  apart,  or  they  would  fall  under 
the  first  class  already  described, — namely,  the  Sensations  of 
Organic  Life.  If  the  subject  were  open  to  full  discussion,  like 
the  other  feelings  of  human  nature,  it  inight  be  best  to  treat 
them  as  an  organic  sensibility  gi^'ing  birth  to  a  special  Emo- 
tion. We  have  in  this  case,  as  in  hunger,  both  appetite  and 
desire ;  but  we  have  also,  what  does  not  occur  to  a  like 
degree  in  hunger,  a  many-sided  susceptibility  to  inflamma- 
tion,— through  all  the  senses,  through  the  trains  of  thought, 
and  through  various  emotions. 

6.  The  accustomed  Eoutine  of  life  leads  to  a  craving 
almost  of  the  nature  of  Appetite.  As  the  time  comes  round 
for  each  stated  occupation,  there  is  a  tendency  or  bent  to 
proceed  with  that  occupation,  and  an  uneasiness  at  being 
restrained.  So,  our  appetites,  properly  so  called,  may  have 
their  times  of  recurrence  determined  by  our  customary 
periods  of  gratifying  them. 

7.  All  the  appetites  are  liable  to  be  diseased  or  perveiiied 
and  to  give  false  indications  as  to  what  the  system  needs. 
They  are  likewise  liable  to  artificial  and  unseasonable  inflam- 
mation, through  the  presence  of  the  things  that  stimulate  and 
gratify  them.  In  the  lower  animals,  it  is  assumed,  I  know 
not  with  what  truth,  that  appetite  rarely  errs  ;  in  humanity, 
error  is  extremely  common.  We  are  apt  to  crave  for  warmth 
when  coolness  would  be  more  wholesome  ;  we  crave  for  food 
and  drink,  far  beyond  the  limits  of  sufficiency ;  we  indulge 
in  the  excitement  of  action  when  we  ought  to  cultivate  rest, 
or  luxuriate  in  repose  to  the  point  of  debility.  So  doubtful 
is  the  appetite  for  sleep,  that  there  is  still  a  dispute  as  to 
how  much  the  system  requires.  Perhaps,  the  complicacy  and 
the  conflicting  impulses  of  the  human  fraiue,  are  the  cause 
of  all  this  uncertainty  and  mistake  ;  rendering  it  necessary 
for  us  to  resort  to  experience  and  science,  and  to  a  higher 
volition  than  appetite,  for  the  guidance  of  our  daily  life. 


CHAP  TEE   IV. 
THE    INSTINCTS. 

1.  TN  the  foregoing  chapters,  have  beeu  enumerated  all  the 
X  primary  modes  of  consciousness.  We  have  now  to 
consider  in  full  the  original  provision  in  the  human  system, 
for  Action.  The  name  'Instinct'  is  especially  reserved  for 
what  is  primitive  or  primordial  on  the  active  side. 

More  expressly,  Instinct  is  defined  as  the  untaught 
ability  to  perform  actions  of  all  kinds,  and  especially  such 
as  are  necessary  or  useful  to  the  animal.  In  it,  a  living 
being  possesses,  at  the  moment  of  birth,  powers  of  acting 
of  the  same  nature  as  those  subsequently  conferred  by 
experience  and  education.  When  a  newly  dropped  calf 
stands  up,  walks,  and  sucks  the  udder  of  the  cow,  we  call 
the  actions  instinctive. 

2.  In  all  the  three  regions  of  mind, — -Feeling,  Volition, 
and  Intellect, — there  are  certain  primitive  and  fundamental 
arrangements,  which  education  or  acquisition  proceeds  upon. 
A  full  account  of  all  our  instinctive  endowments  may  be 
included  under  the  following  heads  : — 

I.  The  Beflex  Actions. — These  are  actions  withdrawn  from 
the  sphere  of  mind,  and  yet  having  analogies,  as  well  as 
contrasts,  with  proper  mental  actions. 

II.  The  primitive  arrangements  for  conihuted  a)id  liarnio- 
nious  actions. — The  rhythmical  acts  of  walking,  flying,  swinj- 
ming,  etc.,  are  examples  of  these.  The  Will  may  supply 
the  stimulus  to  move,  but  the  harmonious  grouping  of  the 
movements  is,  in  many  instances,  provided  for  among  the 
natural  endowments  of  the  system. 

III.  The  connexions  existing  at  the  outset  between  Feelinq 
and  its  bodily  manifestations. 


266  THE    EEFLEX   ACTIONS. 

IV.  The  instinctive  orerm  of  Volition.- — What  we  call  the 
power  of  the  will,  has  to  be  traced  back,  if  possible,  to  some 
inborn  or  primitive  stimulus,  connecting  together  our  feelings 
and  our  actions,  and  enabling  the  one  to  control  the  other. 
This  is  perhaps  the  most  delicate  inquiry  that  our  science 
presents. 

The  primitive  foundations  of  Intellect  will  be  alluded  to,, 
but  cannot  receive  full  justice  until  a  later  stage. 

THE    REFLEX    ACTIONS. 

3.  The  Eeflex,  Automatic,  or  Involuntary  actions,  are  marked 
l)y    the    absence    of    the   circumstance    characterizing  voluntary 

[ actions, — namely,  the  stimulus  and  guidance  oi  feeling.     Many  of 

them  are  essential  to  animal  life.  They  all  demand  a  nervous 
arrangement,  consisting  of  incarrying  and  outcarrying  fibres, 
connected  by  grey  matter.  Some  depend  on  the  spinal  cord  either 
dhectly  or  through  the  sympathetic  nerves  and  ganglia ;  a  second 
group  are  related  to  the  medulla  oblongata  ;  and  some  are  actuated 
by  still  higher  centres,  as  the  pons  varolii  and  the  corpora  quad- 
rigemina.  Occasionally,  the  sympathetic  ganglia  and  a  portion 
of  the  cerebro-spinal  masses  concur  to  the  responsive  movement ; 
but  the  ganglia  are  merely  nutritive  or  distributive  in  function. 

The  Eeflex  Actions  may  be  distributed  as  follows : — 

First,  those  concerned  in  the  organic  processes,  and  operated 
through  the  involuntary  muscles, — being  the  most  widely  removed 
of  all  from  the  mental  or  voluntary  sphere. 

The  rhythm  of  the  heart  cannot  any  longer  be  counted  among 
reflex  actions  properly  so  called.  The  heart  is  capable  of  rhythmic 
action  in  entire  dissociation  from  the  nervous  system — central  or 
local.  The  heart-muscle  itself — there  are  many  grounds  for  so 
concluding — seems  to  retain  the  primitive  irritability  (or  spon- 
taneity) of  'undifferentiated  protoplasm'.  The  embryonic  heart 
beats  I'hythmically  before  there  is  any  nervous  connexion  at  all ; 
and,  thoutrh  it  ultimately  becomes  subject  to  the  control  of  the 
local  and  central  nervous  mechanisms,  its  action  pereists,  not  as 
a  reflex  action,  but  rather  as  a  definite  spontaneity.  In  the  fully 
developed  organism,  however,  the  heart  is  subject  to  cerebro- 
spinal control  hx  two  main  connexions — first,  the  vagus  nerve, 


VASO-MOTOR   ACTION.  267 

second,  the  sympathetic  nerve  ;  both  connecting  the  cerebro- 
spinal centres  with  the  cardiac  gangha  (the  local  mechanism). 
Stimulation  of  the  Vagus  (or  inhibitory  nerve)  results  in  arrest  of 
the  heart-beats.  When  these  begin  again,  they  are  at  first  feeble, 
but,  in  the  end,  become  more  vigorous  than  before  the  arrest. 
This  indicates  that  inhibition  is  the  concomitant  of  a  restorative 
or  anabolic  process  in  the  muscle.  On  the  other  hand,  stimu- 
lation of  the  Sympathetic  (or  augmentor  nerve)  results  in  a 
quickening  and  strengthening  of  the  heart-beats.  Ultimately, 
however,  they  become  more  feeble.  This  indicates  that  the 
augmentation  is  a  destructive  or  catabolic  process.  In  both 
cases — inhibition  and  augmentation — reflex  action  may  play  a 
part ;  since  both  the  vagus  and  the  sympathetic  may  be  brought 
into  action  by  stimuli  from  the  skin,  from  internal  viscera,  from 
other  parts  of  the  nervous  system — the  parts,  for  example,  con- 
cerned in  the  emotions.  To  this  extent,  the  heart-rhythm  falls 
among  reflex  actions. 

Connected  with  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  there  is,  also, 
what  is  called,  the  vaso-motor  action ;  w'hereby  the  smaller  arteries, 
which  possess  muscular  fibres,  are  contracted  or  expanded,  so  as 
greatly  to  modify  the  local  circulation.  The  contraction  of  these 
fibres,  due  to  the  influence  of  the  central  nervous  system  acting 
through  the  sympathetic  nerves,  diminishes  the  bore  of  the  vessels, 
and  lessens  the  flow  of  blood  to  the  parts;  their  relaxation  widens 
the  bore,  and  gives  an  increased  flow,  with  rise  of  temperature  and 
quickened  action  upon  the  nutrition  of  the  locality.  The  per- 
manent contraction,  maintained  in  these  fibres  through  the 
sympathetic  nerves,  is  not  a  pure  case  of  reflex  stimulation. 

Through  the  vaso-motor  agency,  the  secretions  and  excretions 
are  greatly  affected  by  nervous  influence  ;  it  being  uncertain 
whether  this  is  the  sole  instrumentality  whereby  the  processes  of 
organic  life  are  subjected  to  the  nervous  centres.  In  all  proba- 
bility the  secretory  organs  are  directly  affected  by  nerves 
independently  of  the  vaso-motors. 

More  clearly  reflex  are  the  movements  of  the  intestinea.  The 
whole  of  the  intestinal  canal  is  provided  with  nmscular  fibres, 
circular  and  longitudinal,  of  the  unstriated  or  involuntary  species. 
By  the  successive  contraction  of  the  circular  fibres,  aided  by  the 
longitudinal,  the  food  is  propelled  along  the  entire  course  of  the 


268  THE    KEFLEX    ACTIONS. 

tube,  through  reflex  stimulation.  The  first  stage  of  the  process 
commences  with  Deghitition,  or  swallowing,  which  succeeds  to 
mastication.  Of  the  three  steps  of  deglutition,  one  is  purely 
voluntary,  being  the  propulsion  of  the  food,  by  the  concurrence 
of  the  lower  jaw,  mouth,  and  tongue,  into  the  bag  of  the  throat, 
called  the  pharynx  ;  from  which  point  the  movements  are  purely 
reflex  and  involuntary.  In  the  second  stage,  the  contact  of 
the  food  with  the  walls  of  the  pharynx  brings  on  the  rapid 
contraction  of  the  constrictor  muscles  of  the  pharynx,  together 
with  the  auxiliary  operation  of  the  muscular  fibres  for  raising  the 
palate,  and  those  (called  stulo-phariingpi)  for  drawing  the  walls  of 
the  pharynx  upwards.  The  third  stage  of  deglutition  occurs  in 
the  oesophagus,  or  gullet,  w^hose  circular  fibres  successively  con- 
tract in  a  wave-like  manner  from  above,  downwards  ;  while  the 
longitudinal  fibres,  drawing  up  and  w'idening  the  tube,  facilitate 
the  descent.  This  peculiar  action,  called  vermicular  or  peristaltic 
action,  is  extended  through  the  whole  length  of  the  alimentary 
canal.  Both  the  cerebro-spinal  and  the  sympathetic  systems  are 
concerned  in  maintaining  the  action.  The  stimulus  is  the  con- 
tact of  the  food  and  of  the  various  digestive  fluids,  of  which  fluids 
the  most  efficient  is  the  bile. 

This  instance  exemplifies  reflex  action  in  its  simplest  and  most 
widely  spread  form, — namely,  contact  with  a  surface  responded  to 
by  the  muscles  of  the  locality.  At  each  point,  the  food  stimulates 
the  circular  and  longitudinal  fibres  of  the  part  touched  and  those 
immediately  in  the  rear,  so  that  the  morsel  is  gradually  propelled 
in  the  forward  direction.  In  the  pharynx,  the  action  is  violent 
and  rapid  (being  under  the  powerful  control  of  the  medulla 
oblongata).  As  respiration  is  intermitted  during  the  act,  no  time 
must  be  lost ;  while  certain  adjoining  muscles  concur  with  the 
muscles  of  the  pharynx.  In  the  intestine,  the  action  is  compara- 
tively feeble  and  slow  :  the  time  of  descent  of  the  food  along  the 
small  intestine  is  estimated  at  about  three  hours. 

Such  is  the  regular  course  of  reflex  action  in  the  alimentary 
canal.  Among  occasional  and  extraordinary  stimulations,  we 
may  include  the  production  of  diarrhoea  and  colic  by  irritating 
substances— which  is  the  same  process  in  a  more  violent  form. 
A  strong  irritation  will  operate  at  a  distance  from  the  part  affected, 
as  when  these  derangements  of  tlie  bowels  are  brought  on,    in 


MOVEMENTS    OF    THE    INTESTINES.-  269 

infants,  from  teething.  This  shows  the  influence  propagated 
along  the  main  chain  of  the  sympathetic,  instead  of  being  re- 
flected from  a  single  point ;  it  being  the  tendency  of  all  powerful 
stimulation  to  extend  its  influence.  The  same  tendency  is  shown 
in  the  other  direction,  w'hen  irritation  of  the  alimentary  canal 
produces,  in  infants,  squinting  and  convulsions,  and,  in  adults, 
epilepsy. 

Among  reflex  acts,  connected  with  digestion,  we  have  to 
include  vomiting.  The  most  usual  stimulus  is  the  presence  of 
indigestible,  irritating,  or  poisonous  substances  in  the  stomach. 
The  response  necessary  to  vomiting  is  somewhat  complicated. 
The  act  is  proved  to  occur  in  two  w'ays.  One  is  by  an  anti-peri- 
staltic movement  of  the  intestine,  or  by  an  inversion  of  the  order 
of  contraction  of  the  muscular  fibres.  It  is  conceivable  that 
violence  of  irritation  may  have  this  effect,  not  by  any  specific 
nervous  connexion,  but  by  mere  derangement  of  the  usual  rhythm. 
Colic  and  diarrhcea  would  be  varieties  of  the  same  deranging 
stimulus.  In  the  other  mode,  which  is  the  one  most  frequently 
observed,  the  effect  arises  through  the  abdominal  muscles.  This 
wall  be  adverted  to  under  the  next  head. 

In  the  Second  class  of  reflex  actions,  organic  processes  are 
affected,  but  the  instrumentality  is  the  voluntary  muscles.  The 
chief  example  is  respiration,  depending  chiefly  on  the  medulla 
oblongata. 

The  great  muscle  of  respiration  is  the  Diaphragm,  whose 
contraction  performs  the  heaviest  duty,  namely,  inspiration  or 
drawing  in  breath  ;  while  the  natural  rebound  or  elasticity  of  the 
chest  is  the  chief  cause  of  expiration.  Other  muscles  aid  the 
diaphragm  in  the  inspiratory  act ;  and  certain  muscles,  as  those 
of  the  abdomen,  the  internal  intercostals,  the  infracostals,  and 
the  muscles  of  the  back,  may  co-operate  with  the  elasticity  of  the 
chest  and  lungs  in  expiration. 

The  action  consists  of  a  simple  rhythm,  or  alternate  contrac- 
tion and  relaxation  of  the  diaphragm,  as  the  muscle  in  chief  ; 
while  the  co-operating  muscles,  so  far  as  brought  into  play, 
receive,  in  like  manner,  an  alternated  stimulation. 

Although  respiration  is  adduced  as  a  perfect  example  of  the 
reflex  process,  there  is  some  doubt  as  to  the  exact  stimulant 
employed.     The  connnencing  of  respiration  at  birth  is  said  to  be 


270  THE    REFLEX   ACTIONS. 

due  to  the  effect  of  cold — especially  in  the  skiu  of  the  face — 
transmitted  to  the  medulla  oblongata  by  the  nerves  of  the  fifth 
pair.  We  must  suppose,  however,  what  everything  confirms, 
that  this  nervous  centre  is  itself  a  very  energetic  one,  waiting 
only  for  the  slightest  touch  to  discharge  itself  with  the  requisite 
vigour.  All  through  life,  cold,  especially  on  the  face,  stimulates 
respiration ;  even  so  small  an  application  as  the  fan,  in  a  heated 
room,  rallies  the  weakened  action  of  the  lungs. 

When  respiration  is  once  established,  the  stimulus  is  supposed 
to  emanate  from  the  surface  of  the  lungs,  and  to  be  due  to  the 
influence  of  the  venous  blood,  surcharged  wath  carbonic  acid  and 
other  impurities,  and  devoid  of  oxygen;  but,  in  the  absence  either 
of  decided  facts,  or  of  the  analogy  of  a  principle,  this  must  be 
looked  on  as  conjecture.  Granting  that  there  is  reflex  stimulation 
properly  so  called,  we  may  assume  that  there  is  a  considerable 
spontaneous  emanation,  modified  but  not  created,  by  stimulants.* 

The  principal  circle  of  nervous  action  is  by  the  vagus  nerve 
(sensitive  or  incarryiug),  a  small  part  of  the  back  of  the  medulla 
oblongata;  the  nerves  supplying  the  miiscles  of  respiration,  and 
the  phrenic  (motor).  The  circle  is  extended  by  including  the  fifth 
pair  (sensibility  of  the  face) ;  and  by  the  spinal  nerves  (tactile 
and  motor)  all  over  the  body.  As  before  remarked,  there  is  little 
complication  in  the  process  :  the  great  desideratum  is  energy  of 

*  Wheu  the  sensory  nerve  distributed  to  the  surface  of  the  lungs  is  cut 
through,  the  breathing  action  is  weakened,  showing  that  a  certain  amount  of 
stimulus  is  derived  from  the  action  going  on  throughout  the  surface.  If, 
further,  the  brain  is  paralyzed  by  any  poison,  the  respiration  is  still  more 
enfeebled,  leading  us  to  infer  that  the  brain  contributes  to  the  breathing 
activity.  Dr.  Brown- Sequard  has  been  led,  by  the  examination  of  a  great 
many  cases,  to  the  conclusion  that  the  whole  base  of  the  brain  is  employed 
in  respiration.  He  says :  '  All  the  facts  just  mentioned,  and  many  others, 
have  led  me,  first,  to  abandon  the  view  so  generally  admitted,  that  the  medialla 
oblongata  is  the  essential  source  of  the  respiratory  movements  in  the  nervous 
centres  ;  and,  secondly,  to  propose  the  view  that  these  movements  depend 
upon  the  incito-motorij  parts  of  the  cerebro-spinal  axis,  and  on  the  grey  matter 
which  connects  those  parts  with  the  motor  nerves  going  to  respiratory 
muscles  '.  The  chief  stimulus  to  respiration  is  the  action  on  the  surface  of  the 
lungs,  but  '  excitations  fi-oni  all  parts  of  the  body  (as  by  cold,  for  mstance), 
and  also  direct  irritations  of  the  base  of  the  brain  and  of  the  spinal  cord, 
almost  constantly  taking  place,  contribute  to  the  production  of  respiratory 
movements '  {Lectures,  p.  192). 


RESPIRATION.  271 

impulse,  following  a  very  simple  rhythm.  In  so  far  as  the 
operation  can  be  kept  up  by  the  diaphragm  alone,  it  is  the 
simplest  of  all  arrangements ;  a  mere  exertion  and  remission  of 
one  definite  stimulus.  The  accessory  muscles  are  two  opposed 
groups,  like  the  flexors  and  extensors  of  the  body  ;  and,  that  such 
muscles  should  be  stimulated  by  turns,  is  a  consequence  of  their 
being  stimulated  at  all.  By  the  great  la^Y  of  conservation,  to  be 
noticed  presently,  a  process  so  essentially  hnked  with  the  vital 
energies  of  the  system  would  extend  the  compass  of  the  actions 
ministering  to  it,  bringing  into  play  remote  accessories,  as  well  as 
augmenting  the  power  of  the  principal  instrument,  the  diaphragm. 

The  breathing  apparatus  is  the  medium  of  certain  acts,  of 
occasional  occurrence,  more  decidedly  of  the  reflex  character 
than  the  breathing  function  itself.  One  noted  example  is  cough- 
inn.  Although  this  act  is  accompanied  with  a  painful  sensation , 
giving  birth  to  a  voluntary  impulse,  which  counts  as  part  of  the 
case,  yet  there  is  a  marked  concurrence  of  reflex,  in  the  sense  of 
involuntary,  stimulation.  The  localities  whose  irritation  makes 
us  cough  are — -the  glottis,  the  larynx  with  the  air  tubes  of  the 
lungs,  and  the  throat  or  fauces.  The  irritants  are  diseased  secre- 
tions from  the  lungs,  and  from  the  stomach,  passing  over  those 
parts  ;  also,  solid  and  liquid  substances  entering  from  without — as 
when  food  or  drink  enters  the  larynx ;  irritating  gases  ;  and, 
lastly,  cold  air.  The  first  and  immediate  result  of  the  reflex 
stimulus  is,  by  the  contraction  of  the  arytenoid  muscle,  to  close 
the  glottis,  together  with  the  upper  opening  of  the  larynx.  The 
second  act  is  a  violent  movement  of  expiration,  such  as  to  force 
open  the  glottis,  and  clear  the  passages  of  the  irritating  sub- 
stances ;  the  instrumentality  being  the  abdominal  and  other 
muscles  auxiliary  to  expiration. 

The  more  purely  reflex  operation  is  probably  seen  in  the  first 
act,  which  follows  the  most  general  law  of  reflex  stimulation — 
the  contracting  of  the  muscles  of  the  locality  affected.  In  the 
second  act,  the  influence  takes  a  wider  sweep  ;  and,  through  the 
medulla  oblongata,  finds  its  way,  by  the  respiratory  nerves,  to 
the  muscles  of  augmented  expiration.  The  irritation  produces 
that  peculiarly  unendurable  feeling  called  tickling,  which,  though 
not  of  the  ordinary  character  of  acute  pain,  always  prompts  to 
energetic  voluntary  movements  for  getting   rid  of  it.     The  ex- 


272  THE    KEFLEX   ACTIONS. 

planation  probably  is,  that  we  are  made  very  uncomfortable  by 
the  reflex  stimulation  engendered  through  a  slight  touch  of  very 
sensitive  parts.  This  second  act,  if  not  entirely  voluntary,  is  so 
in  part,  and  is  prompted,  in  the  last  resort,  by  the  self-conserving 
tendency,  which  is  the  only  known  source  of  volition. 

Coughing  may  arise  from  cold  air  on  the  skin,  from  coldness 
of  the  feet,  and  from  general  chillness.  In  most  of  these  in- 
stances, if  not  in  all,  there  is  an  intermediate  effect  of  the  rise  of 
phlegm  from  the  lungs  or  the  stomach — the  consequence  of  the 
disturbing  agency  of  the  cold  ;  so  that  the  irritation  of  the  glottis 
or  neighbouring  parts  is  still  the  direct  influence. 

Sneezing  closely  resembles  coughing,  and  the  two  illustrate 
each  other.  The  surface  afl'ected  is  the  interior  of  the  nose.  The 
irritants  are  pungent  gases,  and  foreign  substances  lodging  in  the 
cavities  of  the  nostrils.  The  immediate  response,  parallel  to  the 
closing  of  the  glottis  in  coughing,  would  appear  to  be  the  closing 
of  the  fauces,  so  as  to  divert  the  breath  from  the  mouth  to  the 
nose.  The  more  conspicuous  act  consists  in  a  deep  and  sudden 
inspiration,  followed  by  a  clearing  explosion  through  the  nostrils 
by  a  grand  expiratory  effort.  Some  part  of  the  stimulus  must  be 
regarded  as  voluntary,  with  a  view  to  deliverance  from  the  tickling 
sensation  ;  for,  although  a  sleeper  may  be  made  to  sneeze  by  ad- 
ministering snuff"  or  other  pungent  substance,  the  consciousness 
is  awakened  preparatory  to  the  act.  When  too  much  light,  or 
the  rays  of  a  fire,  on  the  face  or  head,  make  one  sneeze,  there  is 
probably  first  a  reflex  effect,  of  the  vasi-motor  kind,  producing  a 
floW'  of  mucus  in  the  nose. 

Suckiwi  is  a  reflex  act,  passing  into  the  voluntary.  The  pre- 
paratory step  is  the  closing  of  the  lips  round  the  nipple — a  purely 
reflex  process,  stimulated  by  a  mere  contact.  There  are  certain 
concurring  adjustments.  The  tongue  is  brought  forward  to  the 
nipple.  In  the  throat,  by  means  of  the  palate,  uvula,  and 
posterior  pillars  of  the  fauces,  the  entrance  of  air  to  the  mouth 
through  the  nose  and  pharynx  is  prevented,  while  respiration  is 
still  possible  (by  the  nose),  except  at  the  instant  of  swallowing. 
The  act,  then,  consists  in  drawing  away  the  tongue  (the  air-tight 
contact  of  the  lips  remaining),  so  as  to  produce  a  partial  vacuum 
in  the  mouth,  and  a  consequent  in-flow  of  milk  by  atmospheric 
pi-essure.     The  mere  withdrawing  of  the  tongue,  however,  does 


VOMITING.  273 

not  of  itself  suffice  ;  this  might  be  done,  as  any  one  can  test, 
without  swehing  out  the  closed  cavity  of  the  mouth.  Either 
there  must  be  a  bulging  action  of  the  cheeks,  through  the  buccal 
muscles,  or  a  momentary  inspiration,  with  the  nostrils  closed, 
which  would  bring  about  the  needful  disturbance  of  the  atmo- 
spheric equilibrium. 

^Ye  have  already  alluded  to  the  act  of  vomiting,  as  per- 
formed through  the  involuntary  fibres  of  the  alimentary  canal. 
More  usually  and  obviously,  it  takes  place  through  the  abdominal 
muscles.  When  the  pyloric  muscular  ring  (at  the  outlet  of  the 
stomach  into  the  duodenuin)  contracts  tightly,  while  the  cardiac 
orifice  (the  enti'ance  to  the  stomach)  is  open,  the  abdominal 
muscles,  operating  powerfully,  expel  the  contents  of  the  stomach 
from  the  mouth.  The  action  is  essentially  an  irregular  one  ;  the 
due  concurrence  of  all  the  acts  not  being  provided  for  by  a  pre- 
conceived arrangement.  Sometimes  the  cardiac  fibres  are  con- 
tracted, as  well  as  the  pyloric,  through  the  reflex  stimulation 
of  the  alimentary  canal  itself;  in  that  case,  the  attempts  at 
vomiting  are  ineffectual. 

In  order  to  procure  the  aid  of  the  abdominal  muscles,  the 
medulla  oblongata  must  be  affected.  Hence,  there  is  required  a 
sufficiently  powerful  stimulation  of  the  pneumo-gastric  nerves. 
This  may  be  gained  by  an  irritating  contact  with  the  surface  of 
the  stomach — the  most  usual  cause  of  vomiting.  The  effect  may 
also  arise  by  tickling  the  fauces  ;  whence  must  proceed  a  very 
powerful  stimulation  to  the  medulla  oblongata  at  the  point 
where  the  nerves  issue  to  the  abdominal  muscles.  Certain  tastes 
are  called  nauseous,  from  their  tendency  to  excite  the  stomach  to 
vomiting ;  the  nervous  agency  in  this  case  being  the  glosso- 
pharyngeal nerves,  also  connected  with  the  medulla  oblongata. 
Nauseous  odours  probably  operate  through  the  same  nerves :  the 
olfactory  track  would  carry  the  influence  too  far  about.  Certain 
sensations,  in  their  origin  still  more  remote  from  the  stomach, 
bring  on  sickness ;  as  a  severe  prostrating  blow  on  the  shin,  the 
testicle,  or  the  eyeball.  The  seat  of  irritation,  in  this  case,  is 
the  brain,  in  the  first  instance  ;  from  which  an  influence  is  diffused 
to  the  medulla  oblongata.  The  same  may  be  said  of  violent 
emotion  generally, — which  may  lead  to  sickness.  Concussion  of  the 
brain  is  also  a  cause.     These  circumstances  would  indicate  the 

18 


'274  THE    REFLEX    ACTIONS. 

result  as  due  to  a  great  loss  of  cerebral  power,  and  the  dis- 
turbance of  some  tonic  state  or  balance,  permitting  a  special  and 
local  outflow  of  stimulus,  which  the  healthy  condition  holds  in 
restraint.  The  case  of  sea-sickness  would  readily  accord  with 
the  same  view. 

The  aid  given  to  defaecation  by  the  abdominal  and  expiratory 
muscles  is  probably  altogether  voluntary.  Infants  seem  incap- 
able of  the  effort ;  in  them,  accordingly,  the  reflex  peristaltic  move- 
ments of  the  intestines  are  the  expelling  instrumentality. 

The  expulsion  of  the  male  semen  is  a  reflex  act  operated 
through  the  sensory  nerves  and  the  cerebro-spinal  centres  ;  the 
muscles  are  of  the  voluntary  species. 

In  a  Third  class  of  reflex  actions,  the  organic  functions  are 
affected  through  the  medium  of  the  cerebro-spinal  system. 

Salivation  is  controlled  by  the  nerve  of  taste.  A  sapid  body 
entering  the  mouth  causes  an  increased  flow  of  saliva.  The  sali- 
vary glands  are  all  connected  with  the  sympathetic  system  of 
nerves ;  the  small  arteries  of  the  blood-vessels  being  kept  at  a 
certain  point  of  contraction  through  the  vaso-motor  influence  of 
the  sympathetic.  To  produce  an  increased  flow,  the  muscular 
fibres  are  relaxed  by  influence  from  the  sensory  nerves,  apparently 
suspending  or  diminishing  the  action  of  the  sympathetic  ganglia. 
The  gastric  secretion  in  the  stomach  is  influenced,  probably  in 
the  same  way,  through  the  sensory  nerve  of  the  stomach,  the 
pneumo-gastric.  So,  the  flow  of  milk  in  the  female  breast  is 
augmented  by  irritating  the  nipple. 

The  floio  of  tears  is  increased  when  a  foreign  body  enters  the 
eyelids.  The  same  effect  is  caused  by  a  strong  light;  also  by  irri- 
tating the  conjunctival,  nasal,  and  lingual  branches  of  the  fifth 
nerve.  When  the  flow  is  stimulated  by  the  more  remote  disturbances 
of  vomiting,  violent  coughing,  laughing  and  sobbing,  there  is  pro- 
bably an  intermediate  stimulation  of  the  fibres  of  the  fifth  pair. 

The  flow  of  tears  under  pain  is  a  relief  from  the  congestion  of 
the  brain,  and  may  be  forced  on  by  that  circumstance,  and  not  by 
the  process  last  described.  The  effect  of  pain  is  to  weaken  the 
direct  cerebral  impulses,  and  give  more  play  to  the  sympathetic, 
so  that  the  regular  consequence  is  exemplified  in  the  arrest  of 
secretion  (as,  for  example,  the  saliva  and  the  gastric  juice). 

The  tvinking  of  the  eye  is  a  reflex  act,  following  the  same 


REFLEX   :,IOVEMENTS    IN    THE    EYE.  -275 

stimuli  as  the  flow  of  tears ;  namely,  the  presence  of  a  foreign 
body,  the  accumulation  of  watery  drops  in  the  eye,  and  a  strong 
light.  The  nerves  of  the  fifth  pair  are  the  instrumentality  ;  and 
the  paths  of  influence  are  partly  sympathetic,  partly  cerebro-spinal 
(in  this  instance,  probably  issuing  from  the  medulla  oblongata). 
The  complete  and  energetic  closure  of  the  eye,  involving  not  only 
the  eyelids,  but  also  the  eyebrows,  is  altogether  voluntary. 

The  movements  of  the  iris  are  due  to  the  sympathetic  system, 
controlled  by  the  sensory  nerves  of  the  eyeball,  and  the  motor 
nerves  of  the  eye.  The  iris  is  contracted  under  a  strong  light, 
and  expanded  as  the  light  becomes  feeble.  If  the  process  be 
conducted  on  the  analogy  of  the  foregoing  examples,  the  sympa- 
thetic ganglia  would  control  the  radial  fibres,  which  keep  the  eye 
open ;  the  abatement  of  this  control  by  sensory  action  allowing 
the  circular  or  contracting  fibres  to  operate.  It  is  possible, 
besides,  that  the  fibres  of  the  third  cerebral  nerve  proceeding 
to  the  iris  may  be  stimulated  by  a  reflex  influence  of  the  light 
through  some  portion   of  the  brain  (as  the  corpora  quadrigemina). 

In  the  Fourth,  and  last,  class  of  reflex  actions,  muscles, 
more  or  less  voluntary,  are  affected  through  the  cerebro-spinal 
centres.  Here  we  have  an  approximation  to  proper  voluntary 
acts ;  the  stimulant  in  all  cases  being  accompanied  with  sensa- 
tion, and  the  movement  being  such  as  the  will  could  execute. 

The  first  case  that  we  shall  mention  is  the  contraction  of  the 
ciliari/  muscle,  in  the  adjustment  of  the  eye  to  near  vision.  This 
action,  without  our  consciously  willing  or  wishing  it,  succeeds  to 
the  feeling  of  indistinctness  of  the  picture  when  anything  is 
brought  nearer  to  us.  Consentaneous  with  the  act,  are  the  nar- 
rowing of  the  pupil  and  the  convergence  of  the  eyes ;  all  the 
three  adjustments  co-operating  to  the  distinct  vision  of  near 
objects.  The  nerve  for  regulating  the  ciliary  muscle  is  supposed 
to  be  a  branch  of  the  third  pair  ;  the  contraction  of  the  iris  may 
be  due  to  the  same  nerve,  which  likewise  governs  the  conver- 
gence of  the  eyes,  through  the  internal  rectus  muscle.  The 
nervous  centre  more  immediately  concerned  is  the  anterior  pair 
of  the  corpora  quadrigemina,  stimulated  through  the  optic  nerve. 

The  muscles  of  the  tyinpcmum  are  controlled  in  a  manner 
analogous  to  the  adjusting  muscles  of  the  eye.  The  analogy 
extends  to  the  mixed  supply  of  nerves  ;    those   for  the   tensor 


276  THE    EEFLEX   ACTIONS. 

tympani  being  derived  from  the  sympathetic  (hke  the  radial 
fibres  of  the  iris),  those  for  the  stapedius  from  the  fifth  cranial 
nerve.  On  the  theory  of  the  action  of  these  muscles  that  accords 
with  the  above  analogy,  the  tensor  tympani  tightens  both  the 
membrane  of  the  tympanum  and  the  membranes  of  the  foramina 
of  the  inner  ear,  under  the  influence  of  the  sympathetic  ganglia, 
and  renders  the  ear  susceptible,  in  the  highest  degree,  to  sound, 
like  the  radial  fibres  of  the  iris  widening  the  pupil  to  the  utmost. 
The  feeling  of  sound  in  excess  would  then  operate  to  relax  those 
parts,  by  the  stapedius  muscle,  which  is  stimulated  through  the 
facial  (motor)  nerve. 

Under  the  same  head,  we  may  place  the  reflex  movements  of 
the  senses,  generally.  By  these,  are  understood  the  special  move- 
ments of  the  organ  of  sense  itself,  as  distinct  from  the  more  diffused 
wave  of  influence  accompanying  lively  sensation.  Thus,  an  object 
placed  in  the  hand  specially  stimulates  the  muscles  that  bend 
the  fingers,  besides  producing  the  more  distant  effects  associated 
with  a  sensation  as  a  fact  of  consciousness.  The  effect  may  be 
seen  in  any  one  asleep.  A  bad  smell  affects  specially  the 
muscles  of  the  nose ;  a  bitter  taste  brings  on  wry  movements 
of  the  mouth. 

The  word  '  Eeflex,'  as  applied  to  the  actions  now  considered, 
needs  to  be  specially  guarded  and  explained.  It  is  employed  in 
cases  where  its  obvious  meaning  is  absent,,  and  withheld  in  others 
where  that  meaning  is  present,* 

The  notion  plainly  attached  to  the  word  is  a  circle  of  influence, 
wherein  there  can  be  distinctly  shown  an  outer  or  peripheral 
stimulation,  conveyed  by  incarrying  nerves  to  a  ganglionic  centre, 
and  bringing  on,  by  way  of  response,  certain  movements.  The 
stimulation  may  be  unconscious,  as  in  the  intestines,  or  conscious, 
as  in  the  adjustment  of  the  eye.  The  distinction  is  an  important 
one.  It  marks  out  two  grades  of  the  effect,  a  lower  and  a  higher  ; 
and  distinct  names  have  been  employed  to  express  the  two — the 

*  The  term  '  automatic '  is  used  as  a  synonym,  or  as  a  substitute,  for 
'  reflex,'  but  with  still  less  aptness  for  the  purpose.  It  would  serve  to  indi- 
cate the  spontaneous  activity,  and  that  alone.  With  proper  cautions  and  ex- 
planations, the  name  '  reflex '  is  the  most  suitable  that  has  yet  been  proposed. 
•Involuntary,'  although  applicable  to  the  class  (allowance  being  made  for  a 
margin  of  transition),  is  too  wide  in  its  meaning. 


LIMITS    OF   EEFLEX   ACTION.  277 

phrase  excito-motor  being  applied  to  the  first,  and  sensori-motor  to 
the  second. 

But  it  has  been  very  properly  remarked,  that  actions  of  the 
highest  order  of  combined  volition  and  intelligence  may  have 
this  reflected  character.  Any  one  promptly  answering  a  ques- 
tion, exemplifies  a  reflex  operation,  so  far  as  the  general  meaning 
is  concerned.  But  such  cases  are  not  included  among  the  so- 
called  Reflex  actions  ;  these  being  set  in  marked  contrast  to 
voluntary  actions  of  every  kind. 

Again,  there  are  included  in  the  class  certain  effects  that  are 
obviously  wanting  in  the  peculiarity  implied  in  the  name  '  reflex  '. 
Thus,  we  have  seen  that  there  are  many  movements  due  solely  or 
mainly  to  central  influence, — the  so-called  spontaneous  move- 
ments ;  with  regard  to  which,  either  no  peripheral  stimulus  can 
be  assigned,  or  the  stimulus  is  insignificant  compared  with  the 
energy  of  the  response,  an  energy  rising  and  falling  with  the 
physical  condition  of  the  central  grey  masses.  The  convulsive 
movements  in  certain  ailments,  as  hydrophobia,  hysteria,  chorea, 
epilepsy,  tetanus,  etc.,  must  be  due  to  diseased  changes  in  the 
condition  of  the  nervous  centres.  These  are  involuntary  move- 
ments, but  they  are  not,  strictly  speaking,  reflex.  We  may  give 
a  similar  account  of  yawning ;  which  is,  probably,  due  to  the 
unequal  subsidence  of  the  nervous  action,  disturbing  the  balance 
of  the  muscular  tension.  It  would  be  a  very  forced  supposition, 
to  bring  it  under  the  literal  meaning  of  reflex  action. 

In  the  enumeration  of  Reflex  Actions,  there  is  often  included 
a  group  of  effects  distinct  from  any  of  the  foregoing, — namely, 
those  typified  by  laughter,  cries,  sobbing,  sighing,  starting, 
fidgets,  etc.  These  have  been  sometimes  styled  sensori-motor, 
because  they  are  at  the  instance  of  sensations.  This  circumstance, 
however,  does  not  show  their  real  characteristic.  They  are,  in  my 
opinion,  more  aptly  brought  under  emotional  diffusion,  expression, 
or  embodiment.  Every  conscious  state  is  accompanied  with  a 
diffused  wave  of  effects,  muscular  and  organic,  which  is  stronger 
according  as  the  feeling  is  more  intense.  Pleasing  emotions  are 
attended  with  one  class  of  manifestations, — the  smile,  for  ex- 
ample ;  states  of  pain  with  a  difi'erent  class.  The  leading  emotions 
of  the  mind — Wonder,  Fear,  Love,  Anger,  etc. — have  each  a 
characteristic  and  well-known  embodiment  or  display. 


278  THE    EEFLEX  ACTIONS. 

These  movements,  incorporated  in  our  constitution  as  a  por- 
tion of  the  very  fact  of  being  conscious  (we  are  often  said  to  be 
'  moved,'  when  it  is  only  meant  that  an  impression  is  made  on 
the  mind),  may  be  called  '  sensori-motor,'  inasmuch  as  a  sensa- 
tion, when  sufficiently  powerful,  always  visibly  stimulates  them, 
rendering  them,  as  it  were,  the  return  or  response  of  the  outward 
impression.  They  may,  also,  be  styled  'relies,'  for  the veiy same 
reason.  They  are,  further,  '  involuntary '  movements,  being 
quite  distinct  from  our  volitional  acts.  But  they  are  far  from 
being  unconscious  :  they  are,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  inseparable 
from  consciousness,  being  entwined  with  the  conscious  condition 
in  the  mechanism  of  our  frame.  When  consciousness  is  feebly 
excited,  so  are  they, — so  feebly  that  no  visible  manifestation 
results  ;  when  a  stronger  excitement  is  applied,  they  are  roused 
in  proportion.  lu^  cultivated  shape,  thej"  make  the  gesticulation 
and  display  that  constitutes  the  usual  expression  or  natural 
language  of  feeling,  which  no  man  and  no  people  is  devoid  of, 
and  some  nations  exhibit  in  a  remarkable  degree.  Thfe  painter, 
sculptor,  poet,  actor,  seize  hold  of  these  movements  as  the  basis  of 
artistic  forms  ;  and  the  interest  of  the  human  presence  is  greatly 
dependent  on  them,  and  on  the  attributes  that  result  from  them. 

Confining  ourselves  to  the  strictly  Eeflex  Actions,  whether 
excito-motor,  or  sensori-motor,  and  omitting  central  spontaneity, 
emotional  diffusion,  and  voluntary  actions  properly  so  called,  we 
may  now  endeavour  to  generalize  the  facts,  or  to  assign  the  most 
comprehensive  laws  at  present  attainable  with  regard  to  this  pro- 
cess of  the  animal  economy. 

I.  We  trace  one  comprehensive  arrangement,  of  wide  preva- 
lence throughout  the  animal  kingdom, — namely,  the  connexion 
between  a  peripheral  stimulus  and  the  movement  of  the  part 
affected.  This  is  the  simplest  and  the  most  generahzed  type  of 
the  nervous  system,  demanding  a  circle  made  up  of  incarrying 
fibres,  a  central  ganglion,  and  outcarrying  fibres  to  the  muscles 
of  the  same  locality.  In  the  lowest  creatures  possessing  a 
nervous  system,  the  structure  and  the  function  are  as  now- 
described.  The  fixed  mollusc  responds  to  a  contact  by  a  move- 
ment contracting  its  body.  In  the  experiments  on  decapitated 
animals,  irritation  of  the  foot  is  followed  by  retracting  or  else 
throwing  out  the  limb. 


MOST   GENERAL    LAWS    OF   REFLEX   ACTION.  279 

Notwithstanding  the  higher  comphcations  super-imposed  upon 
this  simple  arrangement,  it  is  shown,  almost  pure,  in  many  of  the 
actions  above  adverted  to.  The  peristaltic  movements  of  the 
intestines  appear  to  be  governed  mainly  by  the  contact  with  the 
part  of  the  gut  actually  in  movement.  It  is  the  same  in  the 
pharynx  and  oesophagus,  and  also  in  the  rectum.  In  coughing, 
sneezing,  and  sucking,  the  first  stage  is  a  reflex  stimulation  to 
the  muscles  of  the  parts  irritated.  In  the  operation  of  the  several 
senses,  there  is  a  reflex  stimulus  of  the  same  character,  although 
usually  disguised  and  overpowered  by  the  wider  and  more  j)otent 
influences,  respectively  called  emotional  and  volitional. 

We  may  readily  speculate  upon  the  mode  of  action  in  these 
simple  reflex  circles.  The  peripheral  stimulation  is  either  simple 
contact,  as  in  the  touch  of  a  solid  body,  or  contact  with  absorp- 
tion of  material  fitted  to  act  on  the  nerves.  In  both  cases,  a 
muscular  disturbance  of  the  nerves  takes  place,  which  is  propa- 
gated to  the  ganglia,  and  there  reinforced  by  the  more  active 
changes  occurring  in  the  grey  corpuscular  matter  ;  whence  arises 
a  molecular  movement  in  the  outgoing  or  motor  nerves.  It  is 
not  every  stimulation,  however,  that  imparts  or  evolves  molecu- 
lar activity :  some  stimulants,  as  cold,  under  certain  circum- 
stances, tend  to  lower,  reduce,  or  destroy  activity  already  existing. 
The  most  potent  stimuli,  as  we  might  expect,  are  nutritive  ma- 
terials, and  substances  that,  by  combining  with  oxygen,  or  in  other 
ways,  generate  force.  The  rise  of  temperature,  in  its  direct  or 
immediate  consequences,  contributes  molecular  power. 

II.  One  step  above  the  simplest  reflex  movement,  is  the 
alternation  of  two  movements,  carrying  the  same  part  to  and  fro. 
\Yherever  an  organ  is  fitted  with  an  opposing  pair  of  muscles, 
both  these  have  a  connexion  with  the  ganglion  related  to  the 
part ;  both  receive  outearrying  fibres,  and  the  local  stimulus  will 
excite  movements  in  both — which  movements,  however,  being 
opposed,  must  alternate  with  one  another.  It  is  an  incident  of 
such  a  situation  that  the  muscles  should  fall  into  a  reciprocating 
movement,  and  establish  a  nervous  track  inclining  to  this  recip- 
rocation ;  so  much  so,  that  the  completed  contraction  of  one, 
without  any  other  stimulus,  is  an  occasion  of  beginning  a  con- 
traction of  the  other.  The  alternating  contraction  of  opposing 
pairs,  whether  in  joint  response  to  a  peripheral  stimulation,  or  as 


280  THE    KEFLEX   ACTIONS. 

a  result  of  mere  spontaneity,  or,  lastly,  as  a  consequence  of  re- 
mote nervous  instigation,  is  a  fact  of  very  wide  generality,  and  is 
the  least  possible  remove  from  the  simple  reflex  circuit  supposed 
in  the  foregoing  paragraph. 

III.  The  next  advance  in  complexity  is  shown  in  the  con- 
currence of  several  distinct  movements  in  one  act.  Such  a  con- 
currence is  required  in  deglutition,  in  sucking,  in  coughing,  in 
forcible  inspiration,  in  the  adjustment  of  the  eyes,  and  in  loco- 
motion. The  regulating  circumstance  of  the  united  action  is  the 
furtherance  of  some  end  in  the  economy.  We  know  by  what 
means  combined  movements  are  acquired,  in  ordinary  education; 
namely,  by  tentatives  under  the  guidance  of  the  desired  effect. 

IV.  The  self-adjusting  power  now  hinted  at  (to  be  afterwards 
fully  elucidated  in  connexion  with  the  Will)  may  be  traced  in  the 
inferior  region  we  have  been  considering.  The  supply  of  nutri- 
tion or  other  stimulus  gives  birth  to  molecular  force,  ending  in 
muscular  movement ;  which  movement,  in  many  circumstances, 
furthers  the  nutritive  or  other  contact,  and  is  thereby  still  further 
stimulated,  — as  when  the  shell-fish  in  the  sea  opens  its  mouth  to 
the  water  containing  its  food. 

In  several  of  the  reflex  actions  just  described,  consciousness 
is  usually  present ;  as  coughing,  sneezing,  sucking,  the  increased 
respiratory  activity  from  cold,  the  reflex  action  of  the  senses,  and 
the  special  adjustments  of  the  ear  and  the  eye.  In  so  far  as  these 
actions  arise  during  sleep,  they  may  be  regarded  as  independent 
of  consciousness.  But  in  some,  consciousness  is  a  part  of  the 
case — the  object  being,  not  to  respond  to  a  physical  stimu- 
lation, but  to  remove  an  uneasiness;  such  are  winking,  and  the 
adjustments  of  the  eye  to  vision,  and  of  the  ear  to  sound.  An 
obscure  sense  of  discomfort  is  the  antecedent  circumstance  in 
winking.  To  all  these  cases,  we  must  apply  the  fundamental 
law  of  the  will ;  they  contain  the  essential  fact  of  volition. 
They  differ  from  the  more  usual  forms  of  voluntary  action,  only 
in  not  engrossing  our  attention  ;  we  may  be  occupied  with  other 
matters  while  they  are  taking  place.  In  this  resj^ect,  they  re- 
semble actions  in  the  stage  of  consummated  habit. 

Yet,  it  is  impossible  to  overlook  the  great  resemblance  to  the 
course  of  voluntary  action  in  those  inferior  reflex  processes, 
commonly  accounted  devoid  of  consciousness.     They  are  usually. 


LOCOMOTIVE    RHYTHM.  281 

although  not  always  or  necessarily,  directed  to  the  conservation 
of  the  individual,  which  is  the  foundation  circumstance  of  con- 
scious and  voluntary  action.  "When  several  movements  are 
united  in  one  act,  as  in  sucking,  this  serves  the  better  to  answer 
some  function  of  preservation. 

"We  may  not  be  able  to  draw  a  sharp  line  between  the  reflex 
involuntary  and  the  voluntary :  the  two  may  shade  into  one 
another  by  insensible  degrees  ;  and  a  common  fact  or  tendency 
of  the  system  may  be  at  the  foundation  of  both. 

THE  PRIMITIVE  COMBINED  MOVEMENTS. 

4.  Of  the  primitive  combined  movements,  in  the  human 
subject,  the  leading  example  is  the  locomotive  rhythm.  The 
instinctive  character  of  locomotion,  so  obvious  in  the  inferior 
animals,  is  less  apparent  in  ourselves,  seeing  that  the  power 
of  walking  is  not  possessed  by  us  until  about  a  year  after 
birth.  Nevertheless,  there  are  certain  strong  presumptions 
in  favour  of  an  original  endowment  entering  into  our  aptitude 
for  locomotion. 

(1)  The  analogy  of  the  inferior  quadrupeds  countenances 
the  probability  of  a  locomotive  rhythm  in  the  human 
limbs.  The  similarity  of  structure  of  the  vertebrate  type 
is  sufficiently  close  to  involve  such  a  deep  peculiarity  of 
the  nervous  system  as  this.  What  nature  has  done  for  the 
calf,  towards  one  of  the  essential  accomplishments  of  an 
animal,  is  not  unlikely  to  be  done  in  some  degree  for  man. 
To  equip  a  creature  for  walking  erect  would  doubtless  be  far 
more  difficult,  and  might  surpass  the  utmost  limits  of  the 
primitive  structural  arrangements  ;  but,  seeing  that  the  very 
same  alternation  of  limb  enters  into  both  kinds,  and  that 
nature  gives  this  power  of  alternation  in  the  one  case,  we  may 
fairly  suppose  that  the  same  power  is  given  in  the  other  also. 

(2)  It  is  a  matter  of  fact  and  observation,  that  the  alter- 
nation of  the  lower  limbs  is  instinctive  in  man.  I  appeal  to 
the  spontaneous  movements  of  infancy  as  the  proof.  Mark 
a  child  jumping  in  the  arms,  or  lying  on  its  back  kicking  ; 
observe  the  action  of  the  two  legs,  and  you  will  find  that  the 


282  THE    PRIMITIVE    COMBINED    MOVEMENTS. 

child  shoots  them  out  by  turns  with  great  vigour  and  rapidity. 
Notice,  also,  when  it  first  puts  its  feet  to  the  ground :  long 
before  it  can  balance  itself,  you  may  see  it  alternating  the 
limbs  to  a  full  walking  sweep.  Only  in  virtue  of  this  instinc- 
tive alternation  is  walking  possible  to  be  attained  so  soon. 
No  other  combination  equally  complex  could  be  acquired  at 
the  end  of  the  first  year.  Both  a  vigorous  spontaneous  im- 
pulse to  move  the  lower  limbs,  and  a  rhythmical  or  alternating 
direction  given  to  the  impulse,  are  concerned  in  this  very 
early  acquisition.  Let  the  attempt  be  made  to  teach  a  child 
to  walk  sideways  at  the  same  age,  and  we  should  entirely  fail 
for  want  of  a  primitive  tendency  to  commence  upon. 

(3)  It  has  been  already  seen,  that  the  cerebellum  is  pro- 
bably concerned  in  the  maintenance  of  combined  or  co-ordi- 
nated movements.  AVe  have  proof  that  these  movements 
can  be  sustained  without  the  cerebral  hemispheres,  but  hardly 
without  the  cerebellum.  Now,  that  the  cerebellum  should  be 
well  developed  in  man,  and  yet  not  be  able  to  effect  those 
harmonized  arrangements  found  in  the  inferior  vertebrata,  is 
altogether  improbable. 

Unless  some  mode  of  invalidating  these  facts  can  be  pointed 
out  ,the  reasonable  conclusion  will  be,  that  there  is  in  the  human 
subject  a  pre-established  adaptation  for  locomotive  move- 
ments,— which  adaptation  we  shall  now  attempt  to  analyze. 

5.  First,  it  involves  the  recipy^ocation  or  vibration  of  the 
limb.  Confining  ourselves  to  one  leg,  we  can  see  that  this 
swings  to  and  fro  like  a  pendulum  ;  implying  that  there 
is  a  nervous  arrangement,  such  that  the  completed  move- 
ment forward  sets  on  the  commencing  movement  backward, 
and  inversely.  The  two  antagonist  sets  of  muscles  con- 
cerned in  walking  are  chiefly  members  of  the  two  great 
general  divisions  of  flexor  and  extensor  muscles.  Every 
moving  member  must  have  two  opposing  muscles  or  sets  of 
muscles  attached  to  it;  and,  between  these,  the  limb  is  moved 
to  and  fro  at  pleasure.  There  is,  obviously,  an  organized 
connexion  between  antagonist  muscles  generally,  so  as  to 
give  spontaneously  a  swinging  or  reciprocating  movement 


ANTAGONISM    OF    MUSCULAE    MOVEMENTS.  283 

to  the  parts  ;  in  other  words,  when  any  member  is  carried 
to  its  full  swing  in  one  direction,  there  is  an  impulse  gener- 
ated and  diffased  towards  the  opposing  muscles,  to  bri'ng  it 
back,  or  carry  it  in  the  other  direction.  Of  course,  this 
reaction  will  be  most  strongly  brought  out  on  occasions 
when  the  commencing  movement  takes  a  wide  and  energetic 
sweep.  Thus,  in  a  swing  of  the  arm  carried  up  so  as  to  point 
perpendicularly  upward,  we  may  discern  an  impulse  in  the 
opposing  muscles  to  come  into  play  in  order  to  bring  it  down. 
Every  swinging  motion,  whether  of  arm,  leg,  trunk,  head, 
jaw,  if  not  entirely  due  to  volition,  which  it  would  be 
difficult  to  prove,  must  be  supported  by  an  arrangement  of 
the  nature  now  described.* 

*  On  the  antagonism  of  muscular  movements  generally,  I  quote  the 
following  statements  from  Miiller  : — 

'  There  are  groups  of  muscles  opposed  to  each  other  in  their  action  in 
almost  all  parts  of  the  body.  The  extremities  have  flexors  and  extensors, 
supinators  and  pronators,  abductors  and  adductors,  and  rotators  inwards  and 
rotators  outwards.  Frequently  the  opposed  groups  of  muscles  have  different 
nerves.  Thus  the  flexors  of  the  hand  and  fingers  derive  their  nervous  fibrils 
from  the  median  and  ulnar  nerves ;  the  extensors  theirs  from  the  radial 
nerve  ;  the  flexors  of  the  forearm  are  supplied  by  the  musculo-cutaneous ; 
the  extensors  by  the  radial  nerve.  The  crural  nerve  supplies  the  nervous 
fibres  for  the  extensors  of  the  leg ;  the  ischiadic  those  for  the  flexors.  The 
peroneal  muscles,  which  raise  the  outer  border  of  the  foot,  derive  their  nervous 
fibres  frouj  the  peroneal  nerve  ;  the  tibialis  posticus,  which  raises  the  inner 
border  of  the  foot,  is  supplied  by  the  tibial  nerve.  The  circumstance  of  the 
convulsive  motions  in  afiections  of  the  spinal  cord  being  frequently  such  as 
to  curve  the  body  in  a  particular  direction  shows  that  there  must  be  something 
in  the  disposition  of  the  nervous  fibres  in  the  central  organs  which  facilitates 
the  simultaneous  excitement  to  action  of  particular  sets  of  muscles,  as  the 
flexors,  or  extensors,  etc.  ;  although  Bellingeri's  opinion,  that  the  anterior 
columns  of  the  spinal  cord  sei"\-e  for  the  motions  of  flexion,  the  posterior  for 
those  of  extension,  is  based  on  no  sufficient  facts.  Too  much  importance, 
however,  must  not  be  given  to  the  above  remark  relative  to  distinct  nerves 
suj^plying  the  different  groups  of  muscles  ;  it  is  not  a  constant  fact.  Some- 
times the  same  nerve  gives  branches  to  muscles  opposed  in  action ;  the  ninth, 
or  hypo-glossal  nerve,  supplies  both  the  muscles  which  draw  the  hyoid  bone 
forwards,  and  one  muscle  which  retracts  it ;  the  peroneal  nerve  supplies  the 
peroneal  muscles,  which  raise  the  outer  border  of  the  foot,  and  the  tibialis 
anticus,  which  opposes  this  motion.  Antagonist  muscles  can,  moreover,  be 
most  easily  made  to  combine  in  action ;  thus  the  peroneal  muscles  and  the 
anterior  tibial,  acting  together,  raise  the  foot.  The  flexor  carpi  radialis  and 
the  extensor  carpi  radialis  can  combine  so  as  to  abduct  the  hand  '  (p.  925). 


284  THE    PRIMITIVE    COMBINED    MOVEMENTS. 

In  walking,  there  is  also,  of  course,  a  pendulous  swing  of 
the  leg,  arising  out  of  mere  mechanical  causes.  Like  any- 
other  body  hanging  loose,  the  leg  is  really  and  truly  a  pen- 
dulum, and  when  thrown  back  begins  to  move  forward  of  its 
own  accord.  Again,  the  extensor  muscles,  which  maintain 
the  body  in  an  erect  position,  are  antagonized  by  the  weight 
of  the  parts;  hence,  in  dancing  up  and  down,  the  downward 
movement  may  take  place  by  simply  relaxing  the  tension  of 
the  supporting  muscles.  In  the  same  manner,  the  jaw  tends 
to  drop  of  its  own  accord. 

6.  Secondly,  there  is  implied  in  locomotion  an  alternate 
movement  of  corresponding  limbs,  or  an  alternation  of  the 
two  sides  of  the  body.  After  one  leg  has  made  its  forward 
sweep,  an  impulse  has  to  be  given  to  the  other  leg  to 
commence  a  movement  in  the  same  course.  The  two 
sides  of  the  body  must  be  so  related,  that  the  full  stretch 
of  the  muscles  of  the  one  side  originates  a  stimulus  to  those 
of  the  other.  Nothing  less  would  suffice  to  enable  a  new- 
born calf  to  walk.  The  alternation  between  the  right  and 
left  legs,  both  fore  and  hind,  must  be  firmly  established  in 
the  animal's  organization  by  a  proper  arrangement  of  the 
nerves  and  nerve  centres.  And,  if  the  power  of  walking  in 
human  beings  be  assisted  by  primitive  impulses  and  ar- 
rangements, this  specific  provision  is  necessarily  implied. 

The  alternation  of  the  two  sides  in  locomotion  extends 
beyond  the  muscles  of  the  limbs :  the  whole  trunk  and 
head  sway  in  harmony  with  the  members,  both  in  quad- 
rupeds and  in  man. 

There  are  some  important  exceptions  to  this  alternating 
arrangement ;  but  these  are  of  a  kind  to  place  in  a  stronger 
light  the  examples  of  it  now  quoted.  The  two  eyes  are 
made  to  move  together,  and  never  alternate.  This  ar- 
rangement is  the  most  prominent,  bat  not  the  only,  example 
of  associated  simultaneous  movements.  It  has,  doubtless, 
to  do  with  the  unity  and  singleness  of  the  act  of  vision. 
Moreover,  if  we  observe  the  early  movements  of  the  arms 
in  children,  we  shall  find  in  them  more  of  the  tendency  to 


ASSOCIATED    OR    CONSENSUAL    MOVEMENTS.  285 

act  together  than  to  alternate ;  showing,  as  we  might 
otherwise  infer,  that  the  impulse  of  alternation  of  the 
limbs  is  not  so  deep-seated  an  instinct  in  man  as  in 
quadrupeds.  In  like  manner,  the  movements  of  the 
features  are,  for  the  most  part,  the  same  on  both  sides 
of  the  face. 

7.  Thirdly.  The  locomotion  of  animals  moving  on  all 
fours  suggests  a  further  necessity  of  primitive  adjustment. 
It  is  requisite  that  there  should  be  some  provision  for  keep- 
ing the  fore  and  hind  legs  in  proper  relation  and  rhythm. 
Something  of  the  nature  of  the  vermicular  movement  (that  is, 
the  locomotion  of  worms),  or  the  movements  of  the  alimen- 
tary canal,  needs  to  be  assumed  in  this  case.  Such  a  con- 
nexion must  exist  between  the  fore  and  hind  segments,  in 
order  that  the  movements  of  the  one  may  stimulate  in  suc- 
cession the  movements  of  the  other,  by  a  nervous  propagation 
along  the  spinal  cord  to  the  cerebellum,  or  other  centre  gov- 
erning the  primitive  rhythmical  motions.  In  the  crawling 
of  reptiles,  it  is  obvious  that  the  muscular  contraction  in  one 
segment  or  circle  must  yield  a  stimulus  to  a  nerve  in  con- 
nexion with  the  next  circle,  which  is  made  to  contract  in 
consequence,  and  furnish  a  stimulus  to  the  third,  and  so  on 
through  the  whole  line  of  the  body ;  the  action  of  the  intes- 
tines being  almost  the  same.  In  a  dog,  we  see  the  move- 
inent  of  the  limbs  propagated  to  the  tail.  Each  species  of 
animal  has  its  particular  formula  of  ordering  the  legs  in 
walking,  determined,  it  may  be,  in  part  by  the  shape  of  the 
body,  but  duly  transmitted  in  the  breed  as  a  property  of  its 
structure.  The  shamble  of  the  elephant  represents  one  spe- 
cies of  rhythm  ;  while  the  horse  can  pass  through  all  the 
varieties  of  walk,  gallop,  and  canter.  In  climbing,  too,  the 
alternation  and  the  propagation  both  come  into  play  as  helps. 
In  swimming,  both  are  likewise  apparent. 

8.  I  must  now  mention  more  particularly  the  associated 
or  consensual  movements,  or  those  that  are  so  connected  as 
to  occur  together.  The  most  perfect  example  of  this  is  in 
vision.     In  order   to  make  the  two  eyes  act  together,  the 


286  THE    PEIMITn^E    COMBINED    MOVEMENTS. 

corresponding  muscles  of  each  must  be  simultaneously 
excited  by  the  nerves.  The  following  are  the  facts  con- 
nected with  this  interesting  case.     I  quote  from  Miille'r. 

'  Some  of  the  most  remarkable  facts  illustrating  the  association 
and  antagonism  of  muscular  actions,  are  presented  by  the  muscles 
which  move  the  eyes.  The  corresponding  branches  of  the  third, 
or  motor  oculi,  nerve  of  the  two  sides  have  a  remarkable  innate 
tendency  to  consensual  action,  a  tendency  which  cannot  be 
ascribed  to  habit.  The  two  eyes,  whether  moved  upwards, 
downwards,  or  inwards,  must  always  move  together  ;  it  is  quite 
impossible  to  direct  one  eye  upwards  and  the  other  downwards 
at  the  same  time.  This  tendency  to  consensual  action  is  evi- 
denced from  the  time  of  birth ;  it  must  therefore  be  owing  to 
some  peculiarity  of  structure  at  the  origins  of  the  two  nerves. 
The  association  in  action  of  the  corresponding  branches  of  the 
two  nervi  motores  oculi,  renders  the  absence  of  such  tendency  to 
consensual  motion  in  the  two  external  recti  muscles  and  the 
sixth  nerves  more  striking.  We  do,  it  is  true,  in  a  certain 
measure  cause  the  two  external  recti  muscles  to  act  together 
when  we  restore  the  two  eyes,  of  which  the  axes  are  converging, 
to  the  parallel  direction ;  but  there  the  power  of  consensual 
action  ends ;  the  two  eyes  can  never  be  made  to  diverge,  however 
great  the  effort  exerted  to  do  so.  There  is  an  innate  tendency 
and  irresistible  impulse  in  the  corresponding  branches  of  the 
third  nerve  to  associate  action ;  while  in  the  sixth  nerves  not 
only  is  this  tendency  absent,  but  the  strong  action  of  one  of 
these  nerves  is  incompatible  with  the  action  of  the  other.  These 
innate  tendencies,  in  the  third  and  sixth  nerves,  are  extremely 
important  for  the  functions  of  vision :  for  if,  in  place  of  the 
sixth  nerves,  the  external  recti  muscles  had  received  each  a 
branch  of  the  third  nerve,  it  would  have  been  impossible  to 
make  one  of  these  muscles  act  without  the  other ;  one  eye,  for 
example,  could  not  have  been  directed  inwards  while  the  other 
was  directed  outwards,  so  as  to  preserve  the  parallelism,  or  con- 
vergence of  their  axes  ;  but  they  would  necessarily  have  diverged 
when  one  rectus  externus  had  been  made  to  act  voluntarily.  To 
render  possible  the  motion  of  one  eye  inwards,  while  the  other 
is  directed  outwards,  the  external  straight  muscles  have  received 


ASSOCIATED    MOVEMENTS   IK    THE    EYE.  287 

nerves  which  have  no  tendency  to  consensual  action.  In  conse- 
quence, however,  of  the  tendency  in  the  two  internal  straight 
muscles  to  associate  motion,  it  is  necessary  when  one  eye  is 
directed  inwards  and  the  other  outwards,  that  the  contraction  of 
the  rectus  externus  of  the  latter  should  be  so  strong  as  to  over- 
come the  associate  action  of  the  rectus  internus  of  the  same  eye  ; 
and  in  the  effort  to  direct  one  eye  completely  outwards,  we 
actually  feel  this  stronger  contraction  of  the  external  rectus. 
These  considerations  enable  us  to  imderstand  perfectly  the 
hitherto  enigmatical  fact  that,  in  al]  vertebrata,  the  external 
rectus  muscle  receives  a  special  nerve'  (p.  929). 

The  author  then  goes  on  to  show  the  relation  of  the 
corresponding  oblique  muscles  to  each  other,  and  the  simi- 
lar reason  there  is  for  having  a  distinct  nerve  to  the  superior 
oblique  or  trochlear  muscle. 

An  association  exists  between  the  adjustment  of  the  iris 
and  the  other  movements  of  the  eye :  thus,  whenever  the 
eye  is  voluntarily  directed  inwards,  the  iris  contracts. 
Hence  the  fact  already  stated,  that  the  iris  is  contracted 
during  near  vision. 

Muller  also  remarks  that  '  the  motions  very  prone  to  be 
associated  involuntarily,  are  those  of  the  corresponding  parts 
of  the  two  sides  of  the  body.  The  motions  of  the  irides,  of 
the  muscles  of  the  ear,  of  the  eyelids,  and  of  the  extremities, 
in  the  attempt  to  effect  opposed  motions,  are  examples  of 
such  associations.'  I  have  already  remarked  that  this  coin- 
cidence of  movements  on  the  two  sides  co-exists,  in  the 
case  of  the  limbs  at  least,  with  an  organization  for  an  alter- 
nating motion. 

The  same  author  further  observes,  that  '  the  less  perfect 
the  action  of  the  nervous  system,  the  more  frequently  do  as- 
sociated members  occur.  It  is  only  by  education,  that  we 
acquire  the  power  of  confining  the  influence  of  volition,  in 
the  production  of  movements,  to  a  certain  number  of  nervous 
fibres  issuing  from  the  brain.  An  awkward  person,  in  per- 
forming one  voluntary  movement,  makes  many  others,  which 
are  produced  involuntarily  by  consensual  nervous  action' 


1^ 


288  THE    PRIMITIVE    COMBINED    MOVEMENTS. 

(p.  928).  This,  however,  introduces  much  larger  considera- 
tions, involving  the  whole  mechanism  of  emotion  and  voli- 
tion. 

9.  There  are  various  appearances  that  suggest  the  ex- 
istence of  a  law  of  general  harmony  of  state  throughout  the 
muscular  system.  In  stretching  the  lower  limbs,  we  feel  at 
the  same  time  an  impulse  to  stretch  the  arms,  the  trunk, 
the  head,  and  the  features,  or  to  put  in  action  the  whole 
class  of  extensor  or  erector  muscles.  The  act  of  yawning 
propagates  a  moveinent  over  the  whole  body.  I  cannot 
positively  afhrm  that  this  may  not  be  explained  by  similar- 
ity of  state  producing  everywhere  a  similar  impulse ;  but 
the  appearances  are  more  in  favour  of  a  harmony  of  con- 
dition produced  through  the  nervous  system.  When  the 
eye  is  gazing  attentively  on  an  object,  the  whole  body  is 
spontaneously  arrested,  the  features  are  fixed,  the  mouth 
is  open  ;  and  the  same  harmonizing  fixity  is  observed  in 
the  act  of  listening.  So,  a  movement  in  one  part  propagates 
itself  to  other  parts,  unless  a  special  check  is  maintained ; 
the  movements  of  the  eye  excite  the  whole  body.  Vocal 
utterance  brings  on  gesticulation.  The  pace  of  movement  is 
also  rendered  harmonious.  Eapid  movements  of  t"he  eye 
from  exciting  spectacles  make  all  the  other  movements 
rapid.  Slow  speech  is  accompanied  by  languid  gestures. 
In  rapid  walking  (before  the  exercise  has  a  derivative  effect 
on  the  brain),  the  thoughts  are  quickened. 

These  movements  are  to  be  ranked  among  the  primitive 
impulses  that  serve  the  useful  ends  of  the  animal ;  they  count 
among  the  ^r(XC^*ca,Z  instincts  now  under  discussion.  They 
cause  the  animal  to  come  into  harmony  with  the  circum- 
stances that  surround  it, — to  be  quiet  when  the  scene  is  still, 
to  start  up  and  join  when  others  are  stirring. 

This  property  imparts  character  to  individuals.  A  person 
is  either  slow  or  vivacious,  generally  ;  the  cast  of  movement 
is  the  same  in  all  organs,  in  action  and  in  thought.  From  it 
arises,  likewise,  a  means  of  rousing  and  controlling  the 
actions,  thoughts  and  passions,  of  men  and  animals. 


ONE    SENSE    ACTING   FOR   ANOTHER.  289 

In  the  cries  of  human  beings  and  animals,  which  is  a 
part  of  the  expression  of  feehng,  there  is  a  primitive  combi- 
nation or  concurrence  of  movements,  remarkable  for  its  uni- 
formity. The  tension  of  the  vocal  cords,  through  the  laryn- 
geal muscles,  the  forced  expiration,  and  the  adjustment  of 
the  mouth,  are  united  in  the  same  act.  Possibly,  these  are 
concurring  effects  of  the  emotional  wave,  or  the  diffused 
stimulus  of  strong  feeling,  to  be  noticed  presently. 

10.  There  are  certain  cases  where  one  sense  can  appa- 
rently act  for  another,  previous  to  experience, — as  when  an 
animal  detects  wholesome  or  unwholesome  food  by  the  smell 
before  tasting  it.  That  the  sense  of  taste  should  inform  us 
of  what  is  good  for  digestion  (which  it  does  to  an  imperfect 
degree  in  the  human  subject),  is  not  surprising,  seeing 
that,  in  the  mouth,  the  alimentary  canal  is  already  com- 
menced :  we  feel  more  difficulty  in  discovering  how  smell 
should  have  this  power  of  anticipating  digestion  and  nutri- 
tion. 

The  effluvia  that  bodies  emit  to  the  nostrils,  may  be  a 
specimen  or  representative  of  their  substance  as  applied  to 
the  stomach,  and  may  have  something  of  a  like  effect  on  the 
nervous  system.  AVe  know  that  the  smell  of  putridity 
causes  loathing  and  disgust,  a.nd  that  an  attempt  to  eat 
such  material  would  only  complete  the  effect  already  begun ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  substances  that  have  a  sweet  or 
fresh  flavour,  would,  in  all  probability,  be  free  from  nausea  in 
the  stomach. 

On  the  general  fact  of  one  sense  acting  for  another  by 
way  of  warning  or  invitation,  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  a 
deep  harmony  appears  to  exist  among  the  different  senses, — 
in  consequence  of  which  we  apply  common  epithets  to  the 
objects  of  all  of  them.  Thus,  the  effect  we  call  '  freshness,' 
determined  by  the  stimulus  of  the  lungs,  the  digestion, 
or  the  general  nervous  tone,  arises  in  several  of  the  senses. 
The  difficulty  is  to  find  the  same  external  object,  acting  in  the 
same  manner  upon  two  or  more  of  them,  as  in  the  case  of 
discerning  food  by  the  sight,  or  by  the  smell.  I  am  of  opin- 
io 


290  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY    OF    FEELING. 

ion  that  these  coincidences,  recognized  before  experience, 
are  very  few  in  number,  and  that  the  great  safeguard  of 
animals  hes  in  making  the  direct  experiment  of  eating  what 
comes  in  their  way,  and  in  deciding  according  to  the  feel- 
ings that  result  therefrom.* 

Among  concurrences  in  Sensation,  there  may  also  be  noticed 
the  facts  known  as  the  transference,  radiation,  and  reflexion  of 
sensations.  Eeference  has  already  been  made  (Reflex  Actions, 
p.  250)  to  the  tendenc}^  of  violent  nervous  stimulation  to  extend 
its  sphere  into  collateral  tracks.  There  are  certain  cases  of 
definite  and  uniform  transference  of  the  seat  of  a  sensation  to  a 
distant  locality.  In  disease  of  the  hip,  the  pain  is  felt  in  the 
knee  ;  when  the  kidney  is  the  seat  of  irritation,  the  feeling  of  pain 
may  be  localized  in  the  heel ;  certain  diseases  of  the  brain  are 
accompanied  with  pains  in  the  limbs  (Marshall's  Physiology,  vol. 
i.  p.  347). 

THE  INSTINCTIVE  PLAY  OF  FEELING. 

11.  In  following  out  our  present  object,  winch  is  to  pass 
in  review  all  that  is  primitive  among  the  seusibilities  and 
the  activities  of  the  mental  system,  we  shall  next  consider 
the  instinctive  or  original  mechanism  for  the  expression  of 
Feeling. -f-  It  is  well  known  that  some  of  the  most  con- 
spicuous among   the  manifestations   of  human   feeling,  as 

*  It  is  a  fact  that  lambs  coniuaeuce  eating,  not  the  short  tender  grass, 
but  the  long  and  dried  tops. 

1 1  have  already  referred  (see  p.  258)  to  the  general  law  which  I  believe 
connects  together  emotion,  or  feeling,  and  those  physical  activities  of  the 
frame  known  as  the  expression  or  manifestation  of  feeling.  The  movements 
and  display  caused  by  mental  excitement  have  been  commonly  regarded  as 
merely  incidental  to  certain  of  the  stronger  feelings,  and  little  attention  has 
been  paid  to  them  in  the  scientific  consideration  of  the  mind.  For  my  own 
part,  however,  I  look  upon  these  active  gestures  as  a  constituent  part  of  the 
complex  fact  of  consciousness,  in  every  form  and  vai-iety.  I  do  not  saj'  but 
we  may  have  feelings  that  do  not  give  rise  to  any  visible  stir  of  the  active 
members,  either  inconsequence  of  voluntary  suppression,  or  because  the  dif- 
fused stimulus  is  too  weak  to  overcome  the  inertia  of  the  parts  to  be  moved, 
— but  I  mean  to  affirm  that  xoith  feeling  there  always  is  a  freely  diffused 
current  of  nervous  activity,  tending  to  produce  movements,  gesture,  expres- 
sion, and  all  the  other  effects  described  in  the  course  of  the  next  few  pages 
(see  '  The  Emotions  and  the  Will,'  Emotions,  chap.  i.  jj  2). 


NEEVES    OF    EXPEESSION    OF    THE    FEATURES.  291 

laughter  and  tears,  belong  to  us  from  our  birth.  Education 
here  finds  work  in  repressing  original  impulses,  no  less  than 
in  imparting  new  and  artificial  forms  of  emotional  display. 

It  will  be  instructive  to  quote  the  section  devoted  to  this 
subject  in  Miiller's  Physiology.  The  professed  title  of  the 
section  is,  Movements  due  to  the  Passions  of  the  Mind. 

'  It  is  principally  the  respiratory  portion  of  the  nervous 
system  which  is  involuntarily  excited  to  the  production  of  mus- 
cular actions  by  passions  of  the  mind.  Here  again  we  see  that 
a,ny  sudden  change  in  the  state  of  the  brain,  propagated  to  the 
medulla  oblongata,  immediately  causes  a  change  of  action  in  the 
respiratory  muscles,  through  the  medium  of  the  respiratory 
nerves,  including  the  respiratory  nerve  of  the  face.  There  are 
no  data  for  either  proving  or  refuting  the  hypothesis,  that  the 
passions  have  their  seat  of  action  in  a  particular  part  of  the 
brain,  whence  their  effects  might  emanate.  But  these  effects  are 
observed  to  be  transmitted  in  all  directions  *  by  the  motor  nervous 
fibres,  which,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  passion,  are  either 
excited  or  weakened  in  action,  or  completely  paralysed  for  the 
time. 

'  The  exciting  passions  give  rise  to  spasms,  and  frequently 
even  to  convulsive  motions  affecting  the  muscles  supplied  by  the 
respiratory  and  facial  nerves.  Not  only  are  the  features  dis- 
torted, but  the  actions  of  the  respiratory  muscles  are  so  changed 
as  to  produce  the  movements  of  crying,  sighing,  and  sobbing. 
Any  passion  of  whatever  nature,  if  of  sufficient  intensity,  may 
give  rise  to  crying  and  sobbing.  Weeping  may  be  produced  by 
joy,  pain,  anger,  or  rage.  During  the  sway  of  depressing  pas- 
sions, such  as  anxiety,  fear,  or  terror,  all  the  muscles  of  the  body 
become  relaxed,  the  motor  influence  of  the  brain  and  spinal  cord 
being  depressed.  The  feet  will  not  support  the  body,  the  features 
hang  as  without  life,  the  eye  is  fixed,  the  look  is  completely 
vacant  and  void  of  expression,  the  voice  feeble  or  extinct.  Fre- 
quently the  state  of  the  feelings  under  the  influence  of  passion  is 
of  a  mixed  character  ;  the  mind  is  unable  to  free  itself  from  the 
depressing  idea,  yet  the  effort  to  conquer  this  gives  rise  to  an 
excited  action  of  the  brain.     In  these  mixed  passions  the  expres- 

*  Italics  mine. 


292  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY    OF    FEELING. 

sion  of  relaxation  in  certain  muscles, — in  the  face,  for  example, — 
may  be  combined  with  the  active  state  of  others,  so  that  the 
features  are  distorted,  whether  in  consequence  merely  of  the 
antagonising  action  of  the  opposite  muscles  being  paralysed,  or 
by  a  really  convulsive  contraction.  Frequently  also,  both  in  the 
mixed  and  the  depressing  passions,  some  muscles  of  the  face  are 
affected  with  tremors.  The  voluntary  motion  of  a  muscle  half 
paralysed  by  the  influence  of  passion  is  frequently  of  a  tremulous 
character,  in  consequence  of  its  being  no  longer  completely  under 
the  influence  of  the  will.  We  experience  this  particularly  in  the 
muscles  of  the  face,  when,  during  the  sway  of  a  depressing  or 
mixed  passion,  we  endeavour  to  excite  them  to  voluntary  action; 
the  muscles  of  the  organ  of  voice  also,  under  such  circumstances, 
tremble  in  their  action,  and  the  words  attempted  to  be  uttered 
are  tremulous. 

'  The  nerve  most  prone  to  indicate  the  state  of  the  mind  diu-ing 
passion  is  the  facial  ;*  it  is  the  nerve  of  physiognomic  expression, 
and  its  sphere  of  action  becomes  more  and  more  limited  in  different 
animals,  in  proportion  as  the  features  lose  their  mobility  and  ex- 
pressive character.  In  birds,  it  has  no  influence  on  the  expression 
of  the  face ;  those  only  of  its  branches  exist  which  are  distributed 
to  the  muscles  of  the  hyoid  bone  and  the  cutaneous  muscle  of  the 
neck  ;  and  the  erection  of  the  skin  of  the  neck,  or,  in  some  birds, 
of  the  ear  feathers,  is  in  them  the  only  movement  by  which  the 
facial  nerve  serves  to  indicate  the  passions.  Next  to  the  facial, 
the  respiratory  nerves, — those  of  the  internal  organs  of  respira- 
tion, the  laryngeal  and  phrenic  nerves, +  as  well  as  those  of  the 
external  thoracic  and  abdominal  muscles — -are  most  susceptible  of 
the  influence  of  the  passions.  But  when  the  disturbance  of  the 
feelings  is  very  intense,  all  the  spinal  nerves  become  affected,  to 
the  extent  of  imperfect  paralysis,  or  the  excitement  of  trembling 
of  the  whole  body. 

'  The  completely  different  expression  of  the  features  in  different 
passions  shows  that,  according  to  the  kind  of  feeling  excited,  en- 

*  'The facial  nen-e  is  the  motor  nerve  of  the  face.  It  is  distributed  to 
the  muscles  of  the  ear  and  of  the  scalp  ;  to  those  of  the  mouth,  nose,  and 
eyelids  ;  and  to  the  cutaneous  muscles  of  the  neck.' 

t  The  laryngeal  nerves  are  distributed  to  the  different  parts  of  the  larynx, 
and  are,  therefore,  instrmnental  in  stimulating  the  voice.  The  phrenic,  or 
diaphragmatic  nerve,  is  the  special  nerve  of  the  diaphragm. 


MOVEMENTS    OF    EXPRESSION.  293 

tirely  different  groups  of  the  fibres  of  the  facial  nerve  are  acted 
on.     Of  the  cause  of  this  we  are  quite  ignorant. 

'The  disturbed  action  of  the  heart  during  mental  emotions  is  a 
remarkable  instance  of  the  influence  of  the  passions  over  the  move- 
ments of  organs  supplied  by  the  sympathetic  nerve '  (pp.  932-4). 

12.  With  regard  to  the  Movements  of  the  Face,  Sir  Charles 
Bell  is  of  opinion  that  many  of  them  are  secondary  to  the 
movements  of  respiration.  He  regards  the  heart  and  the 
lungs  as  the  great  primary  sources  of  expression — the  organs 
first  affected  by  the  emotional  excitement  of  the  brain. 

He  called  attention  to  '  the  extent  of  the  actions  of  respiration, 
che  remoteness  of  the  parts  agitated  in  sympathy  with  the  heart. 
The  act  of  respiration  is  not  limited  to  the  trunk  ;  the  actions  of 
certain  muscles  of  the  windpipe,  the  throat,  the  lips,  the  nostrils, 
are  necessary  to  expand  those  tubes  and  openings,  so  that  the  air 
may  be  admitted  through  them  in  respiration  with  a  fi'eedom 
corresponding  to  the  increased  action  of  the  chest.  Without  this, 
the  sides  of  these  pliant  tubes  would  fall  together,  and  we  should 
be  suffocated  by  exertion  or  passion.  Let  us  consider  how  many 
muscles  are  combined  in  the  single  act  of  breathing — how  many 
are  added  in  the  act  of  coughing — how  these  are  changed  and 
modified  in  sneezing ; — let  us  reflect  on  the  various  combinations 
of  muscles  of  the  throat,  windpipe,  tongue,  lips,  in  speaking  and 
singing,*  and  w^e  shall  be  able  justly  to  estimate  the  extent  of  the 
muscles  w^hich  are  associated  with  the  proper  or  simple  act  of 
dilating  and  compressing  the  chest.  But  how  much  more 
numerous  are  the  changes  wrought  upon  these  muscles  when 
nature  employs  them  in  the  double  capacity  of  communicating 
our  thoughts  and  feelings  ;  not  in  the  language  of  sounds  merely, 
but  in  the  language  of  expression  of  the  countenance  also  ;  for 
certainly  the  one  is  as  much  their  office  as  the  other.' 

'  Let  us  see  how  the  machine  works.  Observe  a  man  threat- 
ened with  suffocation :  remark  the  sudden  and  wild  energy  that 
pervades  every  feature ;  the  contractions  of  the  throat,  the  gasp- 
ing and  the  spasmodic  twitchings  of  his  face,  the  heaving  of  his 
chest  and  shoulders,  and  how  he  stretches  his  hand  and  catches 

*  These,  howevei',  are  not  primitive  or  instinctive  associations,  the  class 
that  we  are  most  interested  in  tracing  out  at  present. 


294  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY   OF   FEELING. 

like  a  drowning  man.  These  are  efforts  made  under  the  oppres- 
sive intolerable  sensation  at  his  heart ;  and  the  means  which 
nature  employs,  to  guard  and  preserve  the  animal  machine,  giving 
to  the  vital  organ  a  sensibility  that  excites  to  the  utmost  exertion' 
(Anatomy  of  Expression,  3rd  edition,  p.  91). 

This  last  illustration  does  not  decide  the  point  as  to  the 
dependence  of  the  contortion  of  the  features  upon  the  respi- 
ratory organs,  inasmuch  as  the  state  of  intense  pain  supposed 
would  excite  every  part  of  the  body  by  direct  action.  The 
previous  remarks  on  the  necessity  there  is  for  movements  of 
the  respiratory  passages, — the  throat,  mouth,  and  nostrils, — 
to  accompany  the  action  of  the  lungs,  are  very  much  in 
favour  of  the  author's  view. 

But  that  the  action  on  the  face  is  not  wholly  a  conse- 
quence of  respiratory  excitement,  is  decisively  proved  by  the 
expression  of  the  eyes ;  for,  this  in  no  way  ministers  to  the 
breathing  function.  AVe  are,  therefore,  led  to  conclude  that, 
while  a  certain  amount  of  the  facial  expression  is  due  to  the 
sympathy  or  association  of  the  parts  of  the  movements  of 
the  lungs,  there  still  remains  a  source  of  independent  ex- 
citement derived  from  the  brain  at  first  hand,  and  through 
the  same  common  impulse  that  affects  the  respiratory,  the 
vocal,  and  other  organs.  This  distinctness  of  action  is  re- 
cognized in  the  passage  quoted  from  Miiller. 

13.  In  tracing  out  systematically  and  minutely  the  physi- 
cal accompaniments  of  states  of  feeling,  there  is  observable 
a  broad  and  fundamental  division  into  two  classes — namely, 
effects  of  movement  through  the  muscular  system,  and  organic 
effects,  or  the  influences  exerted  upon  the  viscera  and  glandu- 
lar organs.  Let  us  consider  first  the  Movements.  We  find 
certain  muscles  more  particularly  acted  on  under  feeling, 
and  named,  for  that  reason,  muscles  of  Expression.  Of 
the  more  susceptible  muscular  regions,  our  attention  is 
specially  called  to  the  Face. 

The  muscles  of  the  face,  whereby  all  the  movements  are 
sustained,  are  arranged  round  three   distinct  centres, — the 


MUSCLES    OF    THE    EYEBROW.  295 

P]yes,  the  Nose,  and  the  Mouth.  The  month  has  the  largest 
number  of  muscles,  and  is  the  most  easily  affected  by  states 
of  feeling.     The  nose  is  the  least  endowed  with  mobility. 

The  muscles  of  the  Eyebrow  have  been  already  pointed 
out.  The  occipito-frontaUs  descends  over  the  forehead,  and 
is  inserted  into  the  eyebrow  ;  this  it  raises  or  arches.  It  is 
opposed  by  the  corrugatoi'  siijjercilii,  which  corrugates  or 
wrinkles  the  forehead,  drawing  the  eyebrows  together. 
These  are  pre-eminently  muscles  of  expression,  although  also 
employed  as  voluntary  muscles  for  the  purposes  of  vision. 
They  are  emotionally  moved  by  opposite  states  of  feeling, 
the  one  in  the  more  pleasing  emotions,  the  other  in  pain, 
doubt,  and  embarrassment  ;  and  the  appearance  that  they 
cause  to  a  spectator  suggests,  by  association,  the  corre- 
sponding states  of  mind.  The  orbicular  muscle  of  the 
eyelids,  which  closes  the  eye,  is  of  the  nature  of  a  sphincter, 
like  the  muscle  surrounding  the  mouth,  and  constituting 
the  lips.  This  is  opposed  by  the  levator  palpehrce,  or  the 
elevating  muscle  of  the  upper  eyelid,  which  opens  the  eye, 
both  voluntarily,  and  under  emotion.  The  tensor  tarsi  '  is 
a  very  thin,  small  muscle,  placed  at  the  inner  side  of  the 
orbit,  resting  against  the  fibrous  covering  of  the  lachrymal 
sac,  and  behind  the  tendon  of  the  orbicularis.' 

'  The  corrugator  muscle,  being  fixed  at  its  inner  extremity, 
draws  the  eyebrow  and  eyelid  inwards,  and  throws  the  skin  into 
perpendicular  lines  or  folds,  as  in  frowning.  The  occipito-frontalis 
will,  on  the  contrary,  elevate  the  brow,  and  wrinkle  the  skin 
transversely  ;  which  actions  are  so  frequently  repeated  by  most 
persons,  and  so  constantly  by  some  of  a  particular  temperament, 
that  the  skin  is  marked  permanently  by  lines  in  the  situations 
just  referred  to.  The  orbicular  muscle  is  the  sphincter  of  the 
eyelids.  It  closes  them  tirmly,  and  at  the  same  time  draws  them 
to  the  inner  angle  of  the  orbit,  which  is  its  fixed  point  of  attach- 
ment. The  levator  palpebrte  is  the  direct  antagonist  of  the 
orbicular  muscle  ;  for  it  raises  the  upper  eyelid,  and  uncovers  the 
globe  of  the  eye.  The  tensor  tarsi  draws  the  eyelid  towards  the 
nose,  and  presses  the  orifices  of  the  lachrymal  ducts  close  to  the 


296  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY   OF    FEELING. 

surface  of  the  globe  of  the  eye.  It  may  thus  faciUtate  the 
entrance  of  the  tears  into  the  ducts,  and  promote  their  passage 
towards  the  nose  '  (Quain). 

14.  The  muscles  of  the  Nose  are,  first,  the  pyramidal, 
'  which  rests  on  the  nasal  bone,  and  appears  like  a  prolon- 
gation of  the  occipito-frontalis,  with  whose  fibres  it  is  inti- 
mately connected.  It  extends  from  the  root  of  the  nose  to 
about  half-way  down,  where  it  becomes  tendinous,  and  unites 
with  the  compressor  naris.  Its  chief  effect  seems  to  be  that 
of  giving  a  fixed  point  of  attachment  to  the  frontal  muscle  ; 
it  also  wrinkles  the  skin  at  the  root  of  the  nose.' 

The  common  elevator  of  the  Up  and  nose  lies  along  the 
side  and  wing  of  the  nose,  extending  from  the  inner  margin 
of  the  orbit  to  the  upper  lip.  It  raises  the  wing  of  the  nose 
and  the  upper  lip  together. 

The  compressor  naris  '  is  a  thin,  small  triangular  muscle, 
which  lies  close  upon  the  superior  maxilla  and  the  side  of 
the  nose,  being  transverse  from  without  inwards  and  up- 
wards '.  Contrary  to  its  name,  the  principal  action  of  it 
must  be  to  expand  the  nostril  by  raising  the  lateral  cartilage. 
This  is  an  action  in  obvious  harmony  with  respiration,  seeing 
that  it  opens  the  nasal  passage. 

The  depressor  aloe  nasi  '  is  a  small  flat  muscle,  lying  be- 
tween the  mucous  membrane  and  the  muscular  structure  of 
the  lip,  with  which  its  fibres  are  closely  connected  '. 

Of  these  and  other  bundles  of  muscular  fibres,  traceable 
on  the  small  cartilages  of  the  nose,  the  only  considerable  or 
powerful  muscle  is  the  Common  Elevator  of  the  lip  and 
nose,  which  is  thoroughly  under  the  command  of  the  will, 
and  produces  a  very  marked  contortion  of  feature,  wrinkling 
the  nose  and  raising  the  upper  lip.  In  expressing  disgust  at 
a  bad  smell,  this  muscle  is  strongly  brought  into  play  ;  and 
thence  it  comes  to  be  employed  in  expressing"  disgusts  gener- 
ally.    It  is,  however,  employed  without  any  such  intention. 

15.  There  are  nine  muscles  connected  with  the  move- 
ments of  the  Mouth.     One  of  them,  the  orbicularis,  is  single, 


MUSCLES    OF    EXPEESSIOX    OF    THE    MOUTH.  297 

and  surrounds  and  forms  the  aperture  itself;  the  other  eight 
are  pairs,  and  radiate  from  this  as  from  a  centre. 

The  proper  elevator  of  the  upper  lip  extends  from  the 
lower  border  of  the  orbit  to  the  upper  lip,  lying  close  to  the 
border  of  the  common  elevator  of  the  lip  and  nose.  AVhen 
the  lip  is  raised  without  raising  the  nose,  which  is  not  a  very 
easy  act,  this  muscle  is  the  instrument. 

The  elevator  of  the  angle  of  the  mouth  '  lies  beneath  the 
preceding,  and  partly  concealed  by  it '. 

'  The  zygomatici  are  two  narrow  fasciculi  of  muscular 
fibres,  extending  obliquely  from  the  most  prominent  point 
of  the  cheek  to  the  angle  of  the  mouth,  one  being  larger 
and  longer  than  the  other.'  The  elevator  of  the  angle  of 
the  mouth,  and  the  zygomatic  muscles,  serve  to  retract  the 
angle  of  the  mouth  in  smiling  ;  they  are,  therefore,  muscles 
of  expression. 

The  two  first  of  these  four  muscles  are  concerned  in 
raising  the  upper  lip  ;  but  they  do  not  act  very  powerfully, 
or  conspicuously.  In  fact,  the  upper  lip  is  a  feature  re- 
markable for  fixity,  as  compared  with  the  under  lip,  and  is 
not  often  elevated  in  man  ;  and,  on  the  occasions  when  it  is 
raised,  this  is  done  by  the  common  elevator  rather  than  by 
its  own  proper  muscles. 

The  region  of  the  lower  jaw  contains  three  muscles, — the 
depressor  of  the  angle  of  the  mouth,  the  depressor  of  the 
lower  lip,  and  the  elevator  of  the  lower  lip. 

The  depressor  of  the  angle  of  the  mouth  lies  at  the  side 
and  lower  part  of  the  face,  being  extended  from  the  angle  of 
the  mouth  to  the  lower  jaw. 

The  depressor  of  the  lower  lip  is  a  small  square  muscle, 
lying  nearer  to  the  middle  line  of  the  chin  than  the  pre- 
ceding, by  which  it  is  partly  concealed.  It  rises  from  the 
fore  part  of  the  lower  jaw-bone,  and  is  inserted  into  the 
lower  lip  ;  its  fibres  become  blended  with  those  of  the 
orbicular  muscle  of  the  mouth,  having  been  previously 
united  with  those  of  its  fellow  on  the  opposite  side. 

The  elevator  of  the  lower  lip  arises  from  a  slight  pit  below 


298  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY   OF    FEELING. 

the  teeth-sockets  of  the  lower  jaw,  near  the  middle  hue  of 
the  jaw,  and  is  inserted  into  the  tegument  of  the  chin, 
which  it  hfts  when  in  action. 

The  remaining  muscles  of  the  mouth  are  unconnected 
with  either  jaw,  having  a  sort  of  middle  position  between 
them. 

'  At  each  side  of  the  face,  in  the  part  called  the  "  cheek, '^ 
is  a  muscle — the  buccinator  ;  and,  round  the  margin  of  the 
mouth,  one — the  orbicularis  oris.' 

'  The  buccinator  is  a  thin,  flat  plane  of  muscular  fibres, 
quadrilateral  in  figure,  occupying  the  interval  between  the 
jaws.'  This  muscle  is  exerted  in  masticating  the  food,  and 
receives  nerves  from  the  same  source  as  the  masseter,  which 
is  one  of  the  principal  muscles  engaged  in  the  act  of  mas- 
tication. 

The  orbicularis  oris  '  belongs  to  the  class  of  sphincter 
muscles,  and,  like  them,  is  elliptic  in  form,  and  composed  of 
concentric  fibres,  so  placed  as  to  surround  the  aperture  of 
the  mouth  :  but  with  this  peculiarity,  that  the  fibres  are 
not  continued  from  one  lip  into  the  other.  The  muscle  is 
flat  and  thin  ;  its  inner  surface  being  in  contact  with  the 
coronary  artery  of  the  lips,  labial  glands,  and  the  mucous 
membrane  ;  the  external  with  the  skin  and  the  fibres  of  the 
different  muscles  which  converge  towards  the  margin  of  the 
mouth.' 

'  The  aperture  of  the  mouth  is  susceptible  of  considerable 
dilatation  and  contraction ;  the  former  being  affected  by  the 
different  muscles  which  converge  to  it,  and  which  may  be  com- 
pared to  retractors  drawing,  with  different  degrees  of  obhquity, 
the  lips,  or  their  angles,  in  the  direction  of  their  respective  points 
of  attachment.  The  elevators  are  necessarily  placed  at  the  upper 
part  of  the  face,  the  depressors  in  the  opposite  situation,  and  the 
proper  retractors  on  each  side  ;  and  these  are  the  zygomatici  and 
the  buccinators.  The  buccinators  also  contract  and  compress 
the  cheeks  ;  this  power  is  brought  into  play  when  any  substance 
becomes  lodged  in  the  interval  between  them  and  the  jaws.' 

16.  But  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  confine  the  wave  of 


ORGANIC  EFFECTS  OF  FEELING.  299 

movement  to  the  Face,  although  this  is  the  region  where  it 
is  pre-eminent.  The  Voice  acts  in  concert  ;  giving  forth 
sounds  that  are  characteristically  different  under  joy  or 
woe,  affection  or  rage.  (The  mechanism  of  the  vocal 
organs  is  described  in  a  separate  section.)  x\mong  muscles 
specially  affected  under  mental  states,  we  should  not  omit 
the  Diaphragm. 

All  the  muscles  of  the  body  may  be  thrown  into  agita- 
tion under  a  wave  of  strong  feeling ;  the  movements,  gesti- 
culations, and  carriage  of  the  frame  at  any  one  moment  are 
confidently  referred  to  as  proof  of  a  certain  emotional  state. 
In  Joyful  moods,  an  abundance  of  gesticulation  is  often  dis- 
played, in  company  with  the  play  of  the  features  and  the 
voice.  In  Sorrow,  there  is  sometimes  a  wild  frantic  excite- 
ment ;  but  more  commonly  we  observe  the  inaction  and 
collapse  of  the  moving  members  generall3^  In  Wonder, 
there  is  apt  to  be  a  liveliness  of  movement  ;  so  in  Rage ; 
while  a  tremulous  quaking  is  the  characteristic  of  Fear. 

17.  I  must,  next,  advert  to  the  Organic  effects  of  emotion, 
which  are  quite  equal  in  point  of  importance  to  the  muscular. 
The  viscera  and  glandular  organs  that  are  known  to  be  the 
most  decisively  acted  on  are  the  following : — 

(1)  The  Lachrymal  Gland  and  Sac.  The  Anatomy  of 
this  part  has  been  adverted  to  in  speaking  of  its  associated 
organ,  the  Eye. 

The  existence  of  the  lachrymal  gland  and  sac  in  our  structure 
is  a  fact  anterior  to  the  supposed  evolution  of  facial  expression 
and  the  emotional  outbursts  of  joy  and  sorrow.  Darwin  has 
attempted  to  assign  a  series  of  stages  in  this  evolution,  whereby 
he  comes,  in  the  end,  to  render  a  reason  for  the  sorrowful  side  at 
least  of  the  expression  of  the  face.  It  is  a  safe  assumption  to 
begin  with  the  physical  use  of  the  lachrymal  secretion  as  a  pro- 
tector of  the  eye  in  a  variety  of  circumstances.  The  foremost 
and  most  prevalent  of  such  occasions  is  the  occurrence  of  dust 
particles  on  the  surface  of  the  eye,  whose  undisturbed  persistence 
would  be  injurious.  In  the  act  of  riddance  of  such  extraneous 
substances,  tliere  participates  the  sensitive  character  of  the  inner 


300  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY    OF    FEELING. 

surface  of  the  eyelids.  Wheu  this  surface  is  affected  by  the 
contact  of  a  strange  body,  it  is  acutely  painful ;  and  a  reflex  action 
stimulates  the  flow  of  tears  to  wash  it  away — an  effect  that  pro- 
bably arises  without,  as  well  as  with,  a  painful  sensation.  No 
earlier  or  antecedent  operation  upon  the  gland  can  be  assigned. 
Yet,  it  is  a  very  long  way  from  this  to  the  lachrymal  effusion  that 
accompanies  our  various  feelings  and  emotions,  and  the  inter- 
mediate steps  are  not  easy  to  assign  upon  full  evidence. 

As  the  gland,  like  all  other  glands,  is  perpetually  working, 
although  in  ver}-  unequal  degrees  of  copiousness,  there  must  be 
a  perpetual  mode  of  escape  for  the  secreted  fluid.  This  escape 
is  furnished  through  the  outpouring  of  the  exuded  liquid  over  the 
eyeballs,  and  thence  into  the  nose  ;  there  being  no  visible  drops 
upon  the  eyeball.  A  very  pertinent  question  arises — Whether, 
as  in  many  other  glands,  there  be  a  special  mode  of  sensibility, 
pleasurable  or  painful,  connected  with  this  secretion,  at  least  in 
its  exceptional  degrees  or  amount?  This  consideration  is  not 
everything,  as  regards  the  theory  of  its  operation  ;  but  it  is  some- 
thing. Whether  as  relieving  undue  pressure  on  the  brain,  or  as 
a  gentle  titillation  to  a  highly  sensitive  surface,  we  niay  not 
unreasonably  suppose  that  it  is  in  normal  circumstances  a  cause 
of  pleasurable  sensation — a  fact  of  the  greatest  relevance  in 
accounting  for  its  emotional  value.  That  it  should  be  more 
often  brought  into  pla}'  in  painful  than  in  pleasurable  states, 
instead  of  being  an  objection,  is  a  confirmation  of  this  view.  W^e 
may  take  for  granted  that,  for  assuaging  pain,  we  resort  to  some 
one  or  otlier  of  our  sources  of  pleasure. 

Without,  at  this  stage,  following  Darwin's  elaborate  steps  of 
sequence  by  which  the  secretion  of  tears  becomes  the  key  to 
facial  expression,  we  know  that,  besides  numerous  forms  of  pain, 
the  tender  emotion  is  especially  liable  to  be  accompanied  with 
this  secretion.  It  may  also  accompany  excessive  joy  ;  while  it 
is  repugnant  to  the  more  energetic  phases  of  mind,  and  especially 
to  angry  and  malevolent  outbursts.  In  the  analysis  of  convul- 
sive sobbing,  it  has  also  to  be  reckoned  with. 

(2)  The  Sexual  Organs.  These  organs  are  both  sources 
of  feeling  when  directly  acted  on,  and  the  recipients  of 
influence  from  the  brain,  under  many  states  of  feelin/^  other- 


EFFECTS    OX    DIGESTION.  301 

wise  arising.  They  are  a  striking  illustration  of  the  fact 
that  our  emotions  are  not  governed  by  the  brain  alone,  but 
by  that  in  conjunction  with  the  other  organs  of  the  body. 
No  cerebral  change  is  known  to  take  place  at  puberty ; 
nevertheless,  a  grand  extension  of  the  emotional  suscepti- 
bilities is  manifest  at  that  season,  x^lthough  the  organs  may 
not  receive  their  appropriate  stimulation  from  without,  the 
mere  circumstance  of  their  full  development,  as  an  additional 
echo  to  the  nervous  waves  diffused  from  the  cerebrum,  alters 
the  whole  tone  of  the  feelings  of  the  mind,  like  the  addition 
of  a  new  range  of  pipes  to  a  wind  instrument.  It  is  the  con- 
tribution of  a  resonant,  as  well  as  of  a  sensitive,  part. 

(3)  The  Digestive  Organs.  These  have  been  already  fully 
described ;  and  their  influence  upon  the  mental  state  has 
also  been  dwelt  upon.  In  the  present  connexion,  we  have 
to  advert  more  particularly  to  the  reciprocal  influence  of  the 
mind  upon  them.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  any  consider- 
able emotion  passes  over  us  without  telling  upon  the  pro- 
cesses of  digestion,  either  to  quicken  or  to  depress  them. 
All  the  depressing  and  perturbing  passions  are  known  to 
take  away  appetite,  to  arrest  the  healthy  action  of  the 
stomach,  liver,  bowels,  etc.  A  hilarious  excitement,  within 
limits,  stimulates  those  functions ;  although  joy  may  be  so 
intense  as  to  produce  the  perturbing  effect — in  which  case, 
however,  it  may  be  noted  that  the  genuine  charm  or  fasci- 
nation is  apt  to  give  place  to  mere  tumultuous  passion. 

The  influence  of  the  feelings  in  digestion  is  seen  in  a 
most  palpable  form  in  the  process  of  Salivation.  In  Fear, 
the  mouth  is  parched  by  the  suppression  of  the  flow  of  the 
saliva — a  precise  analogy  to  what  takes  place  with  the 
gastric  juice  in  the  stomach. 

An  equallj'  signal  example,  in  the  same  connexion,  is  the 
choking  sensation  in  the  throat  during  a  paroxysm  of  grief. 
The  muscles  of  the  pharjiix,  which  are,  as  it  were,  the 
beginning  of  the  muscular  coat  of  the  alimentary  canal,  are 
spasmodically  contracted.  The  remarkable  sensibility  of 
this  part  during  various  emotions,  is  to   be  considered  as 


I 


302  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY    OF    FEELING. 

only  a  higher  degree  of  the  sensibihty  of  the  intestine 
generally.  The  sum  of  the  whole  effect  is  considerable  in 
mass,  although  wanting  in  acuteness.  In  pleasurable 
emotion  even,  a  titillation  of  the  throat  is  sometimes 
perceptible. 

(4)  The  Skill.  The  cutaneous  perspiration  is  liable  to 
be  acted  on  during  strong  feelings.  The  cold  sweat  from 
fear  or  depressing  passion,  is  a  sudden  discharge  from  the 
sudorific  glands  of  the  skin.  We  know,  from  the  altered 
odour  of  the  insensible  or  gaseous  perspiration  during  strong 
excitement,  how  amenable  the  functions  of  the  skin  are  to 
this  cause.  It  may  be  presumed,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
pleasurable  elation  exerts  a  genial  influence  on  all  those 
functions. 

A  similar  line  of  remark  would  apply  to  the  Kidneys. 

(5)  The  Heart.  The  propulsive  power  of  the  heart's 
action  varies  with  mental  states,  as  well  as  with  phj^sical  health 
and  vigour.  Some  feelings  are  stimulants  to  add  to  the 
power ;  while  great  pains,  fright,  and  depression  reduce  the 
action.  Miiller  remarks  above,  that  the  disturbance  of  the 
heart  is  a  proof  of  the  great  range  of  an  emotional  wave  ;  or 
its  extending  beyond  the  sphere  of  the  cerebral  nerves  to 
parts  aifected  through  the  sympathetic  nerve. 

(6)  The  Lungs.  The  quotations  before  given,  from 
Miiller  and  Bell,  sufficiently  express  the  influence  of  emo- 
tional states  on  the  movements  of  respiration.  Tlie  im- 
mediate effect  of  increasing  or  diminishing  the  movements 
will  be  to  increase  or  to  diminish  the  rate  of  exchange  of 
the  two  gases — oxj'gen  and  carbonic  acid — at  the  surface 
of  the  lungs.  We  cannot  show^  that  this  exchange  is  influ- 
enced, through  the  nerves,  otherwise  than  by  the  altered 
energy  of  the  breathing  movements. 

(7)  The  Lacteal  Gland  in  woman.  Besides  the  six 
organs  now  enumerated  as  common  to  the  two  sexes,  we 
must  reckon  the  speciality  of  women, — namely,  the  Secretion 
of  the  Milk.  Like  all  the  others,  this  secretion  is  genial, 
comfortable,  and  healthy,  during  some  states  of  mind,  while 


GENEEAL    PRINCIPLE    OF    EMOTIONAL    EXPRESSION.       308 

depressing  passions  check  and  poison  it.  iVs  an  additional 
seat  of  sensibility,  and  an  additional  resonance  to  the  dif- 
fused wave  of  feeling,  the  organ  might  be  expected  to 
render  the  female  temperament  to  a  certain  degree  more 
emotional  than  the  male,  especially  after  child-bearing  has 
brought  it  into  full  play. 

The  foregoing  enumeration  of  organs  that  apparently 
take  part  in  the  expression  or  manifestation  of  feeling  is 
to  be  regarded  as  a  preparation  for  the  announcement  of 
the  law  or  laws  that  associate  our  feelings  in  their  sub- 
jective character  with  the  allied  physical  embodiments  and 
displays.  It  is  as  facts  of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  in  the  first 
instance,  that  we  study  and  generalize  the  physical  workings 
of  our  conscious  states.  Although  there  are  modes  of  ex- 
citement neither  pleasurable  nor  painful,  the  workings  of 
these  would  readily  be  made  to  grow  out  of  the  others. 
The  associates  of  a  physical  kind  with  purely  intellectual 
activities  must  receive  a  treatment  apart. 

18.  We  have  before  us  two  distmct  aspects  of  the 
connexion  of  feeling  with  physical  embodiments  or  workings. 

In  the  first  place,  there  are  the  physical  Agents  with 
their  immediate  effects  on  the  Sense  Organs  to  begin  with, 
to  be  followed  by  other  effects  on  the  Nerves  proper ;  the 
one  class  open  to  observation,  and  the  other  more  or  less,  if 
not  entirely,  hypothetical.  Secondly,  we  have  the  physical 
outcome  in  the  form  of  the  various  movements  and  changes 
constituting  expression  or  external  display. 

A  considerable  number  of  the  facts  may  be  brought 
under  the  following  principle, — namely,  that  states  of  pleasure 
are  connected  witJi  an  increase,  and  states  of  pain  with  an 
abatement,  of  some,  or  all,  of  the  vital  functions. 

Let  us,  first,  revert  to  the  known  Agents,  or  stimulants,  of 
pleasurable  feeling,  and  compare  them  with  their  opposites. 
Beginning  with  the  muscular  Feelings,  we  know  that 
exercise  is  pleasurable  only  when  we  are  expending  surplus 
energy,  and  thereby  making  the  blood  to  course  through  the 
system  more  rapidly.      Both   the  heart   and  the  lungs  are 


304  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY    OF    FEELING. 

quickened  by  bodily  exercise  ;  while  an  accumulation  of  force, 
which  it  would  be  painful  to  restrain,  finds  a  vent.  Let  the 
stage  of  fatigue,  however,  be  reached,  and  let  the  spur  to 
exertion  be  still  continued,  we  then  witness  the  concurring 
circumstances  of  the  sense  of  pain  and  the  lowering  of  xital 
energy.  AVhen  exercise  is  prolonged  to  the  point  of  painful 
fatigue,  there  is  an  actual  diminution  in  the  amount  of 
carbonic  acid  given  off  by  the  lungs,  showing  an  enfeebled 
respiration.  The  action  of  the  heart  is,  likewise,  enfeebled  ; 
and  thus,  upon  two  vital  organs,  has  fallen  an  abatement  of 
energy.  It  is  equally  certain  that,  in  the  same  circumstances, 
the  digestive  power  is  reduced. 

Then,  as  to  Muscular  Eepose — a  feeling  highly  pleasurable, 
especially  if  the  amount  of  exercise  has  been  well  adjusted  to 
the  strength, — the  generalization  is  not  less  applicable.  What 
happens  in  resting  after  exertion  is  evidently  this : — The 
muscles  have  expended  all  their  surplus  energy,  and,  in  so 
doing,  have  stimulated  several  of  the  vital  functions,  such  as 
the  Heart,  the  Lungs,  and  the  Skin.  The  Digestive  function 
is  not  directly  quickened  under  exercise,  but  rather  retarded 
by  the  concentrating  of  the  nervous  currents  in  the  muscles. 
Still,  much  good  has  been  effected  by  the  exalted  operation 
of  these  other  organs  ;  and  now,  at  the  stage  of  repose,  the 
power  hitherto  compelled  into  one  exclusive  direction,  being 
set  free,  returns  to  the  other  parts,  and  especially  to  the 
Digestive  functions, — whose  exaltation,  through  that  circum- 
stance, coincides  with  the  pleasant  sensibility  of  the  resting 
posture.  Thus,  while,  in  Eepose,  we  have  the  cessation  of  one 
vital  energy,  a  corresponding  increase  takes  place  in  several 
others  :  the  organic  functions  generally  are  heightened,  as 
the  mental  and  the  muscular  activities  subside. 

Regarding  the  Sensations  of  Organic  Life,  commentary 
is  almost  superfluous.  With  some  not  unimportant  excep- 
tions, organic  pains  are  connected  with  the  loss  of  power 
in  some  vital  function,  and  organic  pleasures  with  the 
opposite.  Wounds,  hurts,  diseases,  suffocation,  thirst, 
hunger,  nausea,  are    so  many    assaults   upon  our  vitality. 


ENERGETIC    OUTBURST    FROM    ACUTE    PAIN.  305 

Taken  in  the  gross,  there  can  be  no  dispute  as  to  their 
general  tendency.  As  to  the  exceptions,  the  study  of  them,, 
in  some  instances,  at  least,  serves  to  elucidate  the  principle. 
Cold  is  a  painful  agent ;  yet  we  know  that  it  increases  the 
functional  activity  of  the  muscles,  the  nerves,  the  lungs, 
and  the  digestion — depressing  only  one  organ,  the  skin. 
We  may,  hence,  infer  that  the  skin  is  an  organ  of  greater 
sensibility  than  any  of  these  others.  The  stimulation  is 
sometimes  obtained  without  the  depression, — as  in  the 
immediate  reaction  after  a  cold  bath,  w^hereby  the  skin 
recovers  its  tone ;    the  whole  effect  is  then  exhilarating. 

Another  apparent  exception  is  the  occasional  absence  of 
all  pain  in  the  sick  bed  ;  also,  the  happy  elation  sometimes 
shown  in  the  last  moments  of  life.  These  cases  prove, 
what  we  are  already  prepared  for,  by  the  example  of 
muscular  repose  already  cited,  that  a  high  condition  of  all 
the  vital  functions  is  not  necessary  to  agreeable  sensibility ; 
and  open  up  the  important  inquiry — Which  of  these  functions 
are  most  connected  with  our  happiness,  and  which  least  ? 
It  is  clear  that  great  muscular  energy,  exerted  or  possessed, 
is  not  an  immediate  essential,  although  an  indirect  adjunct 
of  considerable  value.  It  would  seem  equally  clear  that  the 
power  of  digestion,  and  a  certain  degree  of  animal  heat,  are 
indispensable.  There  are  states  of  inanition,  of  indigestion, 
and  of  chillness,  that  would  sink  the  loftiest  spirit  into  de- 
spair. Thus  it  may  be,  that  the  comfort  of  the  bed-ridden 
patient,  and  the  placidity  of  the  dying  moments,  are  in  a 
measure  due  to  the  fact,  that  disease  has  overtaken  chiefly 
the  functions  that  least  participa,te  in  our  sensitive  life. 
Painless  extinction  is  in  this  way  contrasted  with  suffering 
continued  through  a  long  life.  There  are  parts  whose 
derangement  is  not  felt  till  on  the  eve  of  a  fatal  issue ; 
there  are  others  that  cannot  be  impaired  without  making 
the  fact  known,  and  that  may  work  ill  for  many  years 
before  causing  death.  Even  the  organs  most  connected 
with  mind,  next  to  the  brain,  may  undergo  morbid  changes 

that    do  not  prevent  them  from    giving  their  usual   genial 

20 


306  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY    OF    FEELING. 

response  to  a  pleasurable  wave.  Obstructed  bowels  will 
quench  more  happiness  than  certain  kinds  of  organic  dis- 
ease of  the  intestines.  The  lungs  are  sometimes  at  the 
last  stage  of  decay  before  affecting  the  enjoyment  of  the 
patient ;  while  the  healthiest  man  is  distressed  by  partial 
•■suffocation. 

AVhen  we  pass  from  the  Organic  Feelings  to  the  Sensa- 
tions of  the  live  senses,  we  miss  the  same  decided  coincid- 
ences. In  Taste  and  Smell,  for  example,  the  rule  might 
hold  with  those  sensations  that  involve  important  vital 
-organs  as  the  Stomach  and  the  Lungs,  but  scarcely  with 
the  proper  sensibilities  of  the  senses.  A  taste  merely  sweet, 
without  being  a  relish,  gives  pleasure ;  but  we  cannot,  in 
this  instance,  assign  any  marked  increase  of  vital  function. 
A  bitter  taste  can  even  operate  as  a  tonic.  So  with  odours. 
We  have  sweet  odours  that  are  sickly,  in  other  words,  de- 
pressing ;  and  although  some  of  the  malodours  may  lower 
the  vital  power,  this  does  not  always  happen,  and  there  is  no 
proportion  between  the  pain  and  the  low^ering  of  the  functions. 

Soft  and  agreeable  touches  have  an  effect  on  the  mind 
somewhat  analogous  to  agreeable  warmth  ;  but  we  cannot 
attribute  the  same  physical  consequences  to  the  one  as  to 
the  other.  On  the  other  hand,  the  painful  smart,  far' from 
diminishing  the  energies,  rather  excites  them,  for  a  time  at 
least ;  so  that,  here  too,  the  induction  would  appear  to  fail. 

The  pleasures  of  Hearing  and  Sight  are  possibly  accom- 
panied with  increased  vital  energy  to  some  extent.  When 
a  person  is  brought  from  confinement  in  the  dark  to  the 
light  of  day,  there  is  observed  a  rise  in  the  pulsation  and 
in  the  breathing ;  which  is  so  far  in  favour  of  the  general 
doctrine.  Still,  we  cannot  contend,  that  the  degree  of 
augmented  vital  energy  corresponds  always  with  the  degree 
■of  the  pleasure.  In  short,  the  principle  that  served  us  so 
well  in  summing  up  most  of  the  organic  pleasures  and  pains, 
does  not  apparently  hold  in  the  five  senses.  Some  addi- 
tional modes  of  action  must  be  sought  for,  in  order  to  give 
a  complete  theory  of  pleasure  and  pain. 


PLEASURE    AND    PAIN    IN    THEIR   MANIFESTATIONS.      307 

19.  So  much  for  the  known  agents  of  pleasure  and  pain. 
We  now  proceed  to  study  the  manifestations.  This  will 
enlarge  the  scope  of  reference  in  quoting  examples  of  the 
opposing  modes. 

We  are  all  familiar  with  the  ordinary  displays  of  muscu- 
lar movement  expressive  of  various  states  of  feeling.  There 
is  a  very  great  degree  of  uniformity  in  the  ways  that  human 
beings  show  the  presence  of  pleasure  and  pain,  as  well  as 
emotions  not  necessaril}'  falling  under  either.  We  know,  in 
particular,  how  the  features  of  the  face  respond  to  every 
passing  shade  of  feeling  having  a  certain  pitch  of  intensity. 
The  influence  of  human  beings  on  each  other,  in  the  way  of 
arousing  and  imparting  emotional  moods,  as  well  as  the 
interpretation  of  states  of  feeling,  is  greatly  due  to  these 
uniforin  or  constant  manifestations.  The  art  productions 
of  all  ages  have  recognized  the  meaning  and  the  value  of 
these  indications  for  awakening  human  interest.  The  scien- 
tific analysis  is  only  recent,  and  has  gone  but  very  little  way 
to  render  an  account,  in  the  form  of  rational  explanation, 
of  the  essential  circumstances  in  our  familiar  experience. 

For  the  purposes  of  this  inquiry,  expression  may  be 
divided  as  above  into  Effects  of  Movement  and  Organic 
Effects.  Under  Movement,  we  have  more  especially  the 
expression  of  the  face,  on  which  the  greatest  obscurity 
still  hangs ;  and  next  the  movements  of  the  body  at  large. 
The  Voice  is  also  a  specialized  organ  for  giving  play  to  the 
feelings  of  the  moment. 

Expression  of  the  Face. — The  expression  of  the  face  has 
been  completely  analyzed  by  Sir  Charles  Bell.  In  pleasing 
emotions,  the  eyebrows  are  raised  and  the  mouth  dilated, 
the  whole  effect  being  to  open  up  the  countenance.  In  pain- 
ful emotions,  the  corrugator  of  the  eyebrow  acts  according 
to  its  name ;  the  mouth  is  drawn  together,  and  perhaps 
depressed  at  the  angles,  by  the  operation  of  the  proper 
muscles.  The  selection  of  these  particular  muscles,  which 
is  remarkably  uniform  in  the  race,  still  remains  an  enigma. 

Of  facial  expression,  as  of  voice,  it  is  remarked  that  the 


308  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY   OF   FEELING. 

muscular  organs  are  small  in  themselves,  and  allied  to 
centres  possessed  of  considerable  force.  Hence  the  inten- 
sity of  the  manifestation,  and  the  readiness  to  appear  under 
very  slight  stimuli. 

Expression  of  the  Voice. — All  animals  that  have  the 
power  of  vocal  expression  make  it  a  medium  of  emotional 
outburst.  Its  variations  are  not  so  numerous  in  the  lower 
animals,  and,  consequently,  similar  tones  are  used  for  very 
different  states  of  mind.  At  the  same  time,  as  we  rise  in 
the  scale,  we  find  the  number  of  expressive  modes  steadily 
increasing,  until  they  enable  us  to  discern,  not  merely  the 
broad  differences  of  pleasure  and  pain,  but  the  degrees  of 
intensity  of  those,  and  also  the  distinctive  emotions  of  anger, 
love,  and  fear.  In  the  human  subject,  the  instinctive  notes 
of  passion  are  of  considerable  number,  being  further  aug- 
mented by  imitation  and  culture. 

The  organs  for  emitting  sound  in  man  and  in  animals  are 
small  in  bulk,  but  well  supplied  by  nerves  and  nerve  centres. 
In  the  diffused  stimulus  of  states  of  feeling  of  average  or  more 
than  average  intensity,  vocal  outbursts  are  unfailing.  Long  before 
the  voice  is  specifically  developed  for  particular  modes  of  feeling, 
it  partakes  of  the  indiscriminate  wave  of  emotion,  brought  on 
through  the  primitive  constitution  of  the  brain.  We  cannot  cany 
our  hypothesis  of  the  cerebral  constitution  beyond  this  assumption 
of  a  free  relationship  between  central  energy  and  muscular 
excitement  generally. 

Movements  of  the  Body  at  Large.  —  The  whole  body  responds 
to  the  successive  waves  of  feeling  when  they  reach  a  certain 
point  of  intensity.  The  character  of  these  various  move- 
ments, although  more  vague  and  undecided  than  the  fea- 
tures and  the  voice,  is  still  sufficiently  various  and  specific 
to  help  the  indications  of  the  prevailing  modes  of  feeling. 
The  broad  difference  betw^een  pleasure  and  pain  never  fails 
to  be  apparent ;  being  supported  by  the  great  fundamental 
distinction  between  the  two  as  respects  the  energy  of  the 
manifestations. 

Involuntary  Muscles. — The  waves  of  strong  feeling,  affect- 


GENERAL    LAW   OF   EMOTIONAL   EXPRESSION.  309 

ing  first  the  features  and  the  voice,  and  next  the  voluntary 
muscles,  end  by  influencing  tlie  lungs,  the  heart,  the  ali- 
mentary canal,  and  the  fibres  of  the  arteries  generally. 
There  is  less  of  discrimination  in  the  appearances  made  by 
these  organs ;  but  the  difference  under  pleasure  and  under 
pain  is  sufficiently  apparent.  The  spasmodic  outbursts 
of  Laughter  and  Grief  find  their  instrumentality  in  the 
involuntary  movements. 

Organic  Effects. — The  secreting  glands  already  enumerated 
respond  characteristically  to  differences  of  feeling,  and  are, 
in  addition,  expressive  indications  of  our  various  moods. 
These  organs  are  acted  on,  principally,  through  the  involun- 
tary muscles.  It  is  as  yet  doubtful  how  far  the  nervous 
system  can  stimulate  secretion  or  excretion  by  a  direct  and 
immediate  effluence  of  nervous  power. 

AVe  are  now  prepared  to  follow  up  the  illustration  al- 
ready given  of  the  law  that  connects  states  of  pleasure  with 
an  increase,  and  states  of  pain  with  an  abatement,  of  vital 
function. 

The  mqst  notable  exception  to  this  law  is  what  frequently 
happens  under  sudden  and  acute  pain.  In  that  condition 
the  violence  of  the  movements  may  surpass  in  energy  any 
of  the  ordinary  movements  attached  to  the  pleasurable  wave. 
Moreover,  there  may  be  states  of  greatest  conscious  pleasure 
with  only  the  most  trifling  manifestations  ;  showing  that, 
for  pleasure,  nervous,  even  more  than  muscular  actuation, 
is  essential. 

Sudden  and  acute  pain  is,  in  appearance,  a  stimulant 
of  our  activities  at  all  points.  But  notwithstanding  the 
vehemence  of  the  display,  the  inference  is  delusive. 
Take  the  case  of  a  man  starting  from  a  violent  scald. 
The  motor  nerves  of  the  system  become  all  alive  for  the 
instant,  and  throw  a  violent  current  into  the  moving  mem- 
bers, inspiring  a  temporary  spasmodic  energy.  But  look  at 
the  other  side  of  the  picture.  In  the  first  place,  this  spas- 
modic burst  has  drawn  away  the  regular  supply  of  nerve 


310  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAT    OF    FEELING. 

force  from  the  organic  functions — all  of  which  will  be  found 
to  be  seriously  impaired  on  the  occasion  ;  so  that,  at  best, 
there  is  but  a  disturbance  of  the  usually  healthy  direction 
of  the  vital  power.  Again,  consider  what  happens  at 
the  end ;  how  frightful  the  prostration  that  follows  this 
painful  stimulation.  We  shall  then  be  convinced  that,  on 
the  whole,  power  has  been  profusely  sacrificed,  although, 
from  the  susceptibility  of  the  nerves  to  an  acute  stimulus, 
there  was  for  a  time  a  manifestation  of  unusual  energy. 
And  we  can  only  recover  from  the  consequent  depression 
and  collapse  by  a  course  of  nourishment  and  repose. 

'  In  pain,  the  body  is  exerted  to  violent  tension,  and  all  the' 
emotions  and  passions  allied  to  pain,  or  having  their  origin  and 
foundation  in  painful  sensations,  have  this  general  distinction  of 
character,  that  there  is  an  energetic  action  or  tremor,  the  effect 
of  universal  and  great  excitement.  It  must  at  the  same  time  be 
remembered,  that  all  the  passions  of  this  class,  some  more  im- 
mediately, others  more  indii'ectly,  produce  in  the  second  stage 
of  exhaustion,  debility,  and  loss  of  tone  from  over-exertion  ' 
(Anatomy  of  Expression,  p.   154). 

As  regards  increase  of  vital  power  in  states  of  pleasure, 
the  erectness  of  the  body,  the  raising  and  throwing  back  of 
the  head,  the  gesticulation  with  the  arms  and  the  activity 
of  the  movements  generally,  in  whatever  exercise  is  sug- 
gested for  the  time,  are  the  normal  expression  of  a  pleasur- 
able outburst.  The  smiling  expression  of  the  features,  the 
stimulus  to  laughter,  are  also  usual  accompaniments.  In  the 
ordinary  synonyms  of  the  word  pleasure,  we  find  such 
epithets  as  lively,  animated,  gay,  cheerful,  hilarious,  applied 
to  the  movements  and  expression — all  tending  to  suggest 
that  our  energies  are  exalted  for  the  time.  In  joyful  moods, 
the  features  are  dilated ;  the  voice  is  full  and  strong ; 
the  gesticulation  is  abundant ;  the  verj^  thoughts  are 
richer.  In  the  gambols  of  the  young,  we  see  to  advantage 
the  coupling  of  the  two  facts — mental  delight  and  bodily 
energy. 

'  Under  a  transport  of  Joy,'  says  Darwin,   '  or  of  vivid 


EXPEESSION    OF    PLEASURE.  311 

Pleasure,  there  is  a  strong  tendency  to  various  purposeless, 
movements,  and  to  the  utterance  of  various  sounds.  We 
see  this  in  our  young  cliildren,  in  their  loud  laughter,, 
clapping  of  hands,  and  jumping  for  joy ;  in  the  bounding- 
and  barking  of  a  dog  when  going  to  walk  with  his  master  ; 
and  in  the  frisking  of  a  horse  when  turned  into  an  open 
field.- 

The  contrast  of  painful  expression,  w^hen  not  disturbed 
by  the  violence  of  the  acute  and  sudden  forms  of  pain,  is 
confirmatory  and  illustrative.  The  body  is  dejected  into 
collapse,  the  voice  feeble  and  characterized  by  a  long-drawn 
wailing  note,  the  features  assume  their  painful  attitude^ 
although  modified  and  disguised  by  the  convulsive  accom- 
paniments of  grief.  In  states  of  pain  and  depression, 
among  the  various  symptoms  there  stand  forth  prominently 
the  enfeeblement  and  collapse  of  the  body  and  limbs, — just  as 
erectness  and  energetic  activity  characterize  the  opposing 
condition. 

'  In  sorrow,'  says  Bell,  '  a  general  languor  pervades  the 
whole  countenance.  The  violence  and  tension  of  grief, 
the  lamentations  and  the  tumult,  like  all  strong  excitements,, 
gradually  exhaust  the  frame.  Sadness  and  regret,  wath  de- 
pression of  spirits  and  fond  recollections,  succeed ;  and 
lassitude  of  the  whole  body,  with  dejection  of  the  face  and 
heaviness  of  the  eyes,  are  the  most  striking  characteristics. 
The  lips  are  relaxed,  and  the  lower  jaw  drops ;  the  upper 
eyelid  falls  and  half  covers  the  pupil  of  the  eye.  The  eye 
is  frequently  filled  with  tears,  and  the  eyebrows  take  an 
inclination  similar  to  that  which  the  depressors  of  the 
angles  of  the  lips  give  to  the  mouth.' 

20.  The  convulsive  outbursts  of  laughter  and  sobbing  or 
grief  are,  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  instinctive,  and  are 
thoroughly  characteristic  of  opposing  moods. 

The  convulsive  outburst  in  laughter  is  connected  with 
the  suddenness  of  the  producing  cause,  and  also  its  vehe- 
mence,— both  leading  to  a  surcharge  of  nervous  excitement, 
for  which  some  outlet  is  necessarv.     The  influence  on  re- 


312  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY   OF   FEELING. 

spiration  is  a  regulating  effect ;  it  controls  the  taking  in 
of  oxygen,  and,  thereby,  the  supply  of  arterial  blood  to 
the  nerve  centres.  Violent  emotion  of  every  kind  shows 
itself  in  muscular  display,  and  finds  some  relief  in  that 
circumstance.  But  the  respiratory  organ  is  more  especially 
instrumental  as  a  check  to  too  great  activity. 

Without  entering  into  the  various  causes  of  laughter, 
we  may  say  that  it  is  a  joyful  expression.  The  principal  organ 
in  the  case  is  the  Diaphragm;  all  else  is  subordinate  and 
secondary.  That  large  muscle,  which  is  the  chief 
agent  in  the  act  of  inspiration, — its  contraction  increasing 
the  capacity  of  the  chest, — is  convulsed  in  laughter  :  in  other 
words,  it  is  made  to  undergo  a  series  of  rapid  and  violent 
contractions.  Some  great  accession  of  stimulus  from  the 
brain  has  reached  it,  and  the  consequence  is,  that  the  person 
'draws  a  full  breath,  and  throws  it  out  in  interrupted, 
short,  and  audible  cachinnations  '.  Nervous  power  has  been 
generated  somewhere,  and  is  here  discharged  into  the  great 
muscle  of  inspiration.  The  concurring  or  subsidiary  actions 
also  indicate  an  increase  of  power.  When  the  laughter  is 
audible,  we  know  that  the  vocal  chords  have  been  made 
tense  through  a  stimulus  applied  to  the  muscles  of  the 
larynx.* 

The  convulsive  outburst  of  ^He/ contrasts  strikingly  with 
the  above.  The  principal  agency  in  the  effect  is  still  the  convul- 
sive action  of  the  chest,  but  with  a  difference.  The  expiration, 
which  in  the  other  case  was  violently  increased,  is  rendered  sloiu. 
The  diaphragm  must  answer  for  this  fact,  or  rather  the  ner- 
vous centres  that  maintain  it  in  operation.     These  centres, 

*  "  The  Sound  of  Laughter  is  produced  by  a  deep  inspiration  followed  by 
short,  interrupted,  spasmodic  contractions  of  the  chest,  and,  especially,  of  the 
diaphragm.  Hence,  we  hear  of  "  laughter  holding  both  his  sides".  From  the 
shaking  of  the  body,  the  head  nods  to  and  fro.  The  lower  jaw  often  quivers 
up  and  down, — as  is  likewise  the  case  with  some  species  of  baboons,  when  they 
are  much  pleased.  During  laughter,  the  mouth  is  opened  more  or  less  widely 
with  the  corners  drawn  much  backwards,  as  well  as  a  little  upwards ;  and 
the  upper  lip  is  somewhat  raised.  The  drawing  back  of  the  comers  is  best 
seen  in  moderate  laughter,  and  especially  in  a  broad  smile  '  (Darwin,  p.  202). 


SPASMODIC    OUTBURSTS    OF   LAUGHTER  AND    GRIEF.      313 

instead  of  overflowing,  have  become  bankrupt ;  they  cannot 
even  keep  up  the  usual  supply  of  power.  This  partial  stop- 
page, or  paralysis,  of  the  diaphragm  is  a  key  to  the  whole 
phenomenon.  To  prevent  suffocation,  the  muscles  of  inspira- 
tion have  to  be  stimulated  by  efforts,  like  the  application  of 
bellows  to  inflate  the  lungs  of  a  drowning  man;  which  forces 
on,  by  reaction,  an  additional  expiratory  impulse.  The  great 
declension  of  vital  energy  is  apparent.  The  accessories  attest 
the  same  fact.  The  voice  is  feebly  exerted,  and  the  conse- 
quence is  a  long-drawn,  melancholy  note.  The  pharynx  is 
convulsed,  and  is  incapable  of  its  rhythmical  movements  in 
swallowing.  The  features  are  relaxed,  except  in  so  far  as 
they  sympathize  with  the  efforts  of  forced  inspiration.  These 
appearances  are  sometimes  modified,  as  when  a  robust  child 
bursts  out  in  a  violent  fit  of  crying,  expending  a  great  deal  of 
energy  on  the  occasion.  Great  animal  spirits  can  afford  this 
manifestation  ;  and  it  may  be  little  else  than  an  outlet  for 
surplus  power,  having  less  of  sorrow  than  of  anger.  But  that 
would  not  be  the  fair  or  t\T3ical  instance.  In  all  cases,  the 
reaction  shows  that  power  has  been  wasted  and  the  system 
impoverished, — the  very  opposite  of  laughter. 

The  lachrymal  effusion  is  an  accompaniment  of  grief;  but 
there  are  also  tears  of  joy.  In  the  extreme  of  merriment, 
the  eye  is  moistened  and  suffused.  We  can  easily  suppose, 
that  an  increased  vital  stimulus  of  the  lachrymal  gland  and 
sac  would  promote  the  secretion  of  the  healthy  liquid ;  and 
that  this,  by  coursing  over  the  sensitive  surface  of  the  eyelids, 
would  give  a  certain  genial  sensation,  which  we  enjoy  in  the 
happy  moods  of  tender  emotion.  The  amount  may  be  in- 
creased so  as  almost  to  reach  the  point  of  visible  drops,  and 
still  be  of  the  genial  character.  But  we  must  not  conclude 
that  the  profuse  stream  that  overflows  in  the  outburst  of 
grief,  is  merely  the  same  action  carried  one  stage  farther. 
The  common  fact  of  abundance  of  liquid  does  not  prove  that 
all  else  is  the  same.  As  we  may  have  a  profuse  salivation, 
containing  very  little  of  the  material  that  avails  for  insali- 
vating the  food,  so  w^e  may  have  a  profuse  lachrymal  effusion. 


314  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY    OF   FEELING. 

caused,  not  by  the  increased,  but  by  the  diminished,  action 
of  the  gland, — -in  which  case- the  quahty  would  be  radically 
changed.  I  make  this  assumption,  partly  on  speculative 
grounds,  and  partly  because  I  think  any  one  will  recognize 
a  difference  in  the  sensation  of  the  eyelids,  when  moistened 
under  a  joyful  wave,  and  when  the  moistening  comes  of  pain 
or  depression. 

Not  only  in  painful  states,  but  also  in  extreme  in- 
stances of  pleasurable  emotion,  the  blood-vessels  of  the 
brain  are  congested,  and  the  effusion  of  tears  is  one  mode 
of  relief. 

21.  The  principle  now  contended  for,  not  only  explains  a 
large  and  important  region  of  facts,  but  is  essential  to  the 
preservation  of  the  individual.  If  pleasure  were  something 
subversive  of  vital  force,  our  system  would  be  a  house  divided 
against  itself.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  above  principle  were 
rigorously  true,  we  should  never  be  inwardly  moved  to  act  in 
a  manner  prejudicial  to  our  physical  welfare.  That  we  are 
so  moved  is,  then,  a  proof  of  the  existence  of  some  modifying 
influences,  which  must  be  brought  to  light,  in  order  to  a 
complete  theory  of  pleasure  and  pain.  It  has  been  seen  that 
the  ordinary  pleasures  of  the  five  senses  do  not  point  to  any 
great  or  marked  increase  of  vitality ;  and  one  might  say  the 
same  of  many  of  the  special  emotions — wonder,  affection, 
power,  knowledge,  fine  art,  etc.  That  these  are  accompanied 
by  some  increase  of  vital  power  is  proved  by  their  expres- 
sion,— which  is  of  a  lively,  animated  kind,  whenever  the 
pleasure  is  considerable.  Yet  it  could  not  be  said,  that  the 
increase  of  vigour  in  the  system  at  large  corresponds  on  all 
occasions  to  the  degree  of  the  pleasure.  A  still  more  startling 
exception  is  presented  by  the  Narcotic  stimulants ;  for  these 
are  known  to  debihtate  and  waste-  the  powers  of  life.  And  if 
it  be  maintained  that  this  is  only  an  after  consequence,  and 
corresponds  to  the  stage  when  the  mental  tone  has  changed 
to  pain  and  depression,  I  reply  that  such  is  not  the  fact: 
a  man  drinking  to  intoxication  loses  his  physical  energy  long 
before  the  feeling  of  exhilaration  abates  ;  and  the  pleasurable 


PLEASURE    DUE    TO    STIMULATION   AS    SUCH.  315 

excitement  of  tobacco  and  of  opium  may  continue  under  an 
almost  total  prostration  of  the  vital  forces. 

We  are  thus  called  upon  to  qualify  the  doctrine  that 
connects  Pleasure  and  Self-conservation,  by  at  least  one 
other  doctrine  connecting  Pleasure  with  Stimulation  as  such. 
The  precise  limits  of  this  second  principle  are  to  be  deter- 
mined by  an  examination  of  the  facts. 

22.  It  is  convenient  to  divide  the  modes  of  stimulation 
into  two  classes :— first,  what  may  be  called  the  natural 
stimulants  of  the  Senses  and  the  Emotions  ;  and  secondly. 
Narcotics  and  Drugs. 

First.  On  examining  the  natural  stimulants  of  the  Senses, 
what  we  appear  to  find  is  this.  Touches,  sounds,  sights,  are 
pleasurable  within  certain  liinits  of  intensity  (excepting,  per- 
haps, discordant  sounds).  Pain  in  these  three  higher  senses 
usually  arises  from  excess  in  the  stimulus  applied.  The 
point  of  excess  is  exceedingly  variable  in  different  persons, 
and,  in  the  same  person,  at  different  times  ;  and  notoriously 
depends  upon  the  vigour  of  the  system.  So  that  we  may 
say  with  certainty,  as  regards  the  sensations  of  Touch, 
Hearing,  and  Sight,  that  sensation,  as  such,  is  pleasurable 
within  limits  determined  by  the  vigour  of  the  nervous 
system.  As  regards  the  chemical  senses,  Taste  and  Smell, 
we  cannot  lay  down  the  rule  in  the  same  positive  manner  ; 
we  cannot  affirm  the  difference  between  painful  tastes  or 
odours  and  those  that  are  pleasant  to  be  merely  a  difference 
of  acuteness.  We  do  not  at  present  understand  what  are 
the  distinctive  modes  of  action  of  sweet  and  bitter  tastes  on 
the  nervous  substance  ;  and  we  may  not  say,  regarding  tastes 
and  odours,  that  sensation,  as  such,  is  pleasurable.  At  all 
events,  these  pleasures  and  pains  are  not  obviously  explained 
on  the  principle  of  Conservation  :  both  the  one  and  the 
other  are  referable  to  some  form  of  Stimulation.  A  bad 
odour  does  not  owe  its  painful  agency  to  depression  of 
vitality,  nor  a  sweet  odour  to  the  opposite  fact. 

Some  of  the  simpler  emotions  can  be  easily  explained  on 
one  or  other  of  the  two  principles.      Wonder  is  a  pleasurable 


316  THE    INSTINCTIVE    PLAY   OF   FEELING. 

stimulant,  if  not  applied  out  of  proportion  to  the  vigour  of 
the  system.  So  with  tender  feeling,  with  the  sentiment  of 
power,  fine  art,  etc.  Many  of  the  painful  emotions  are  asso- 
ciated with  depressing  agencies  :  fear,  sorrow,  shame,  are 
familiar  examples.  These  may,  also,  operate  as  perverting 
stimulants,  or  irritants,  of  the  nervous  system. 

And  now,  in  the  second  place,  as  regards  narcotic  stimu- 
lation, we  have  a  series  of  substances — alcohol,  tobacco,  tea, 
opium,  haschish  (Indian  hemp),  betel-nut — that  are  pleasur- 
able, but  hardly  in  any  degree  favouring  vital  action.  We 
may  allow  them  some  influence  in  promoting  the  physical 
vigour  for  a  brief  interval  of  time;  but  their  effect,  as  stimu- 
lants of  the  mental  tone,  is  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  most 
that  can  be  claimed  for  them  in  that  respect.  On  the  other 
side,  if  carried  beyond  certain  narrow  bounds,  they  under- 
mine and  destroy  the  human  constitution  ;  and  the  motive 
of  self-conservation  is  not  always  able  to  avert  that  conse- 
quence. 

The  law  of  Stimulation,  as  a  supplementary  principle  to 
Conservation,  amounts  to  this  : — We  possess  a  certain  amount 
of  nervous  vigour  or  irritability,  which  is  converted  into  the 
full  actuality  of  pleasure,  only  when  impelled  by  shocks  that 
have  no  nutritive  tendency,  but  merely  draw  upon,  and  con- 
sume, the  accumulated  power.  If  we  apply  stimulants,  up  to 
a  certain  point,  we  do  not  dissipate  force  beyond  what  will 
be  repaired  ;  if  we  fall  short  of  that  point,  we  miss  the 
pleasure  that  our  frame  is  able  to  sustain ;  if  we  exceed 
the  point,  we  run  into  a  declension  or  a  degeneracy.  It 
would  seem  that  we  can  afford  both  the  natural  stimula- 
tion of  the  senses,  and  a  certain  small  amount  of  stimula- 
ting drugs,  and  yet  not  overdraw  our  allowance  of  nervous 
power. 

23.  One  might,  not  without  plausibility,  maintain  the 
position  that  Stimulation  is  the  main  cause  of  pleasure,  and 
that  the  nourishment  of  vital  energy  merely  enables  this  to 
be  pushed  to  greater  lengths,  without  degenerating  into  pain. 
The  facts  would,  undoubtedly,  bear  such  interpretation.     It 


CONSERVATION    CONTRASTED   WITH    STIMULATION.       317 

could  be  said  that  stimulation  of  some  kind  can  never  be 
absent ;  and  that,  by  increasing  the  vital  power,  this  stimu- 
lation, falling  on  the  refreshed  nervous  substance,  would 
impart  the  pleasurable  tone.  But  it  is  better,  in  the  present 
state  of  our  knowledge,  not  to  push  either  principle  to  exclu- 
sive predominance.  A  certain  physical  vitality,  in  some 
organs  at  least,  if  not  an  essential  condition  of  a  pleasurable 
tone,  can  always  enhance  the  effect  of  the  other  cause,  and 
in  practice  is  often  all  that  we  need  to  look  to. 

The  contrast  of  country  and  city  life  familiarly  illustrates 
the  two  principles.  The  pleasure  of  the  one  results  mainly 
from  the  conservative  and  healthy  or  vitalizing  influences  ; 
the  pleasure  of  the  other  from  variety  of  stimulation.  It  is 
possible  to  attain  a  measure  of  happiness  in  either  situation. 
High  health  is  not  an  essential  of  pleasure  ;  the  nerves  may 
respond  to  agreeable  stimulations  in  the  midst  of  some  (not 
all)  modes  of  bodily  weakness.  The  readiness  to  take  on 
the  thrill  of  intense  pleasure  is  a  speciality  of  the  nervous 
constitution.  The  state  of  the  general  system,  and  more  par- 
ticularly of  the  glandular  organs,  is  an  important  element ; 
but  the  main  foundation  in  the  case  is  to  be  sought  in  an 
endowment  of  the  nerve  tissue.  A  man  may  have,  as  it 
were,  a  natural  genius  for  being  happy.  (For  a  further 
discussion  of  the  physical  accompaniments  of  Feeling,  see 
Appendix  B.) 

THE  INSTINCTIVE  GERMS  OF  VOLITION. 

24.  In  a  former  chapter,  I  endeavoured  to  establish,  as 
an  important  fact  of  the  human  S3'stem,  that  our  various 
organs  are  liable  to  be  moved  by  a  stimulus  proceeding 
from  the  nervous  centres,  in  the  absence  of  any  impres- 
sions from  without,  or  any  antecedent  state  of  feeling  what- 
soever. This  fact  of  spontaneous  activity,  I  look  upon  as 
an  essential  prelude  to  voluntary  power,  making  indeed  one 
of  the  terms  or  elements  of  Volition  :  in  other  words,  Volition 
is  a  compound,  made  up  of  this  and  something  else. 

Neither  the  existence  of  spontaneous  actions,  nor  the 


318  THE    INSTINCTIVE    GERMS    OF   VOLITION. 

essential  connexion  of  these  with  voluntary  actions,  has 
been,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  advanced  as  a  doctrine  by  any 
writer  on  the  human  mind  ;  but  the  following  interesting 
extracts  from  the  great  physiologist,  Miiller,  will  show  that  he 
has  been  forcibly  impressed  with  both  the  one  and  the  other 
of  these  views. 

'  It  is  evident  that  the  ultimate  source  of  voluntary  motion 
cannot  depend  on  any  conscious  conception  of  its  object  ;  for 
voluntary  [I  should  say  '  spontaneous,']  motions  are  performed 
by  the  foetus  before  any  object  can  occur  to  the  mind,  before 
an  idea  can  possibly  be  conceived  of  what  the  voluntary  motion 
effects ;  we  must  therefore  view  the  question  in  a  much  simpler 
manner.  On  what  do  the  first  voluntary  movements  in  the 
foetus  depend?  All  the  complex  conditions  which  give  rise  to 
voluntary  motions,  in  the  adult,  are  here  absent.  Its  own  body 
is  the  sole  world  from  which  the  obscure  conceptions  of  the  foetus 
that  excite  its  actions  can  be  derived.  The  foetus  moves  its 
limbs  at  first,  not  for  the  attainment  of  any  object,  but  solely 
because  if  can  move  them.  Since,  however,  on  this  supposition, 
there  can  be  no  particular  reason  for  the  movement  of  any  one 
part,  and  the  foetus  would  have  equal  cause  to  move  all  its 
muscles  at  the  same  time,  there  must  be  something  which  de- 
termines this  or  that  voluntary  motion  to  be  performed, — which 
incites  the  retraction,  first  of  this  foot  or  arm,  and  then  of  the  other.' 

This  last  supposition,  as  to  the  equal  tendency  of  all  the 
muscles  to  come  into  action  through  the  spontaneous  activity 
of  the  centres,  is,  I  think,  too  absolutely  stated.  There  can 
hardly  exist  such  a  perfectly  balanced  charge  of  the  centres, 
as  to  make  all  of  them  equally  ready  to  commence  a  stimulus 
of  the  muscles  under  their  control,  like  the  ass  of  Buridan 
between  the  two  bundles  of  hay.  It  will  always  happen 
that  some  one  will  be  more  prone  to  act  than  another,  from 
the  mere  state  of  constitutional  or  nutritive  vigour  belonging 
to  it ;  and,  when  that  one  has  exhausted  itself,  the  discharge 
of  some  other  may  be  expected.  Then,  as  regards  the  tendency 
to  move  the  limbs  by  turns,  we  have  already  seen  that  this 
alternation  is  provided  for  by  a  distinct  arrangement  ;   so 


SPONTANEITY   ACCORDING   TO    MULLER.  319 

that,  when  by  any  means  a  motion  of  the  legs  is  commenced, 
that  motion  is  guided  in  a  regular  alternation.  I  continue 
the  quotation  from  Miiller. 

'  The  knowledge  of  the  changes  of  position,  which  are  pro- 
duced by  given  movements,  is  gained  gradually,  and  only  by 
means  of  the  movements  themselves  ;  the  first  play  of  the  will  on 
single  groups  of  the  radicle  motor  fibres  of  the  nerves  in  the 
medulla  oblongata,  must  therefore  be  independent  of  any  aim 
towards  change  of  position  ;  it  is  a  mere  play  of  volition,  without 
any  conception  of  the  effects  thereby  produced  in  the  limbs.  This 
voluntary  [say,  rather,  spontaneous]  excitation  of  the  origins  of 
the  nervous  fibres,  without  objects  in  view,  gives  rise  to  motions, 
changes  of  posture,  and  consequent  sensations.  Thus  a  connexion, 
is  established  i?i  the  yet  void  mind  hetween  certain  >iensations  and  cer- 
tain motions.  When  subsequently  a  sensation  is  excited  from 
without,  in  any  one  part  of  the  body,  the  mind  will  be  already 
aware  that  the  voluntary  motion,  which  is  in  consequence  exe- 
cuted, will  manifest  itself  in  the  limb  which  was  the  seat  of  sen- 
sation ;  the  foetus  in  utero  will  move  the  limb  that  is  pressed 
upon,  and  not  all  the  limbs  simultaneously.  The  voluntary 
movements  of  animals  must  be  developed  in  the  same  manner. 
The  bird  which  begins  to  sing,  is  necessitated  by  an  instinct  to 
incite  the  nerves  of  its  laryngeal  muscles  to  action .;  tones  are 
thus  produced.  By  the  repetition  of  this  blind  exertion  of  voli- 
tion, the  bird  at  length  learns  to  connect  the  kind  of  cause  with 
the  character  of  the  effect  produced. 

'  We  have  already  learned,  from  many  other  facts,  that  the 
nervous  principle  in  the  medulla  oblongata  is  in  a  state  of  extra- 
ordinary tension,  or  proneness  to  action ;  that  the  slightest 
change  in  its  condition  excites  a  discharge  of  nervous  intiuence, 
as  manifested  in  laughing,  sneezing,  sobbing,  etc.  While  the 
tension  of  the  nervous  principle  is  not  disturbed,  we  are  equally 
ready  to  excite  voluntary  movements  in  any  part  of  the  body,  and 
such  is  the  state  of  rest  or  inaction.  Every  mental  impulse  to 
motions  disturbs  the  balance  of  this  tension,  and  causes  a  dis- 
charge of  nervous  influence  in  a  determinate  direction, — that  is, 
excites  to  action  a  certain  number  of  the  fibres  of  the  nervous 
motor  apparatus  '   {Physiology,  pp.  936-7). 


320  THE    INSTINCTIVE    GERMS    OF   VOLITION. 

This  last  view  I  conceive  to  be  an  accurate  statement  of 
the  nature  of  nervous  energy.  The  nervous  system  may  be 
compared  to  an  organ  with  bellows  constantly  charged,  and 
ready  to  be  let  off  in  any  direction,  according  to  the  particular 
keys  that  are  touched.  The  stimulus  of  our  sensations  and 
feelings,  instead  of  supplying  the  inward  power,  merely  has 
its  chief  efficacy  in  determining  the  manner  and  place  of  the 
discharge.  The  centres  of  speech  and  song,  for  example, 
when  fresh  and  healthy,  either  overflow  so  as  to  commence 
action  in  a  purely  spontaneous  way,  or  they  remain  undis- 
charged till  irritated  by  some  external  influence, — as,  for 
example,  the  sound  of  another  voice.  The  bird  whose 
morning  song  has  lain  dormant  for  a  time,  breaks  forth  at 
the  stimulus  of  another  songster  just  begun. 

25.  We  must  now,  therefore,  specifically  consider  what 
there  is  in  volition  over  and  above  the  spontaneous  discharge 
of  active  impulses  upon  our  various  moving  organs, — limbs, 
body,  voice,  tongue,  eyes,  etc.  If  we  look  at  this  kind  of 
impulse  closely,  we  shall  see  wherein  its  defect  or  insuffi- 
ciency lies, — namely,  in  the  random  nature  of  it.  Being 
dependent  on  the  condition  of  the  various  nervous  centres, 
the  discharge  is  regulated  by  physical  circumstances,  and  not 
by  the  ends,  purposes,  or  uses  of  the  animal.  When  the 
centres  of  locomotion  are  fresh  and  exuberant,  as  in  the  dog 
unchained  of  a  morning,  the  animal  sets  off  at  the  top  of  his 
speed ;  the  force  once  exhausted,  the  creature  comes  to  a 
stand-still  in  the  same  spontaneous  way,  like  a  watch  rmi 
down.  But  this  moment  of  exhausted  spontaneity  is  the 
very  moment  when  an  animal  ought  properly  to  be  active  in 
procuring  food  and  replenishment  to  the  system  ;  and  there 
ought  to  be  in  the  state  of  exhaustion  itself  a  stimulus  to  act 
— just  as  a  watch  run  down  would  require,  in  order  to  be  self- 
sustaining,  to  pull  some  string  that  would  set  going  a 
power  to  wind  it  up, — or  as  a  dying  fire  ought  to  act  on  a 
spring  for  putting  on  fresh  coals.  Mere  spontaneity,  there- 
fore, stops  far  short  of  what  our  volition  does  for  us  in  the 
way  of  self-preservation:  a  power  that  dies  out,  when  action 


MERE    SPONTANEITY   INSUFFICIENT.  321 

is  most  needed,  cannot  be  the  appropriate  support  of  our 
existence. 

Miiller's  application  of  the  term  '  vohmtary  '  to  the  initial 
movements  prompted  solely  by  the  state  of  tension  of  the 
nerve  centres,  is  not  strictly  correct.  These  movements  are  but 
one  term  of  the  couple  that  makes  up  an  act  of  volition  ;  both 
a  feelino-  and  a  movement  are  necessary  parts  of  every  such 
act.  A  morsel  of  food  on  the  tongue  stimulates  the  move- 
ments of  mastication  :  this  is  a  voluntary  effort,  an  effort 
prompted  and  controlled  by  a  feeling, — namely,  the  sensation 
of  taste  or  relish.  Acts  performed  without  any  stimulus  of 
feeling  are  usually  described  as  involuntary  :  such  are  the 
spasms  of  disease,  and  many  of  the  reflex  movements. 

26.  The  subject  of  Will,  in  its  full  development,  con- 
stitutes an  integral  branch  of  the  systematic  handling 
of  the  mind.  It  is  introduced  at  this  stage  by  way  of 
completing  the  survey  of  the  primordial  elements  of  our 
mental  framework,  in  contradistinction  to  the  acquired. 
Our  acquisitions  presuppose  an  instinctive  foundation  ;  and 
clearness  requires  that  we  should  first  state  and  define  the 
fundamental  portion  before  tracing  in  detail  the  process  of 
upbuilding.  Moreover,  this  is  the  best  opportunity  for 
strongly  marking  the  contrast  between  true  voluntary 
activity  and  modes  of  action  already  recounted  that  are 
not  voluntary. 

It  is  usual,  in  speaking  of  Will,  to  characterize  it  by  the 
peculiarity  of  Choice.  The  supposition  is  that,  where  we  do  not 
make  a  choice  between  two  alternative  courses,  we  do  not  put  forth 
an  exercise  of  Will.  That  this  is  a  common  case — indeed,  a  very 
common  case — in  the  nature  Will,  is  quite  certain ;  but  the  question 
still  arises  whether  this  is  absolutely  the  first  germ  or  commence- 
ment of  Will.  Is  it .  not  possible  to  perform  an  act  of  Will  upon 
one  single  object  of  desire, — as  when  a  thirsty  man  swallows  a 
draught  of  water  ? 

Another  moot  point  involved  in  the  foregoing,  is, — whether  we 
can  will  without  first  forming  an  idea  or  an  image  of  the  object  willed. 
A  similar  objection  may  be  taken   here ;    the  contention  being 

21 


322  THE    INSTINCTIVE    GERMS    OF   VOLITION. 

that  this  is  not  the  primary  form  of  will,  but  a  secondary  develop- 
ment. The  point,  therefore,  is  to  state  what  we  conceive  to  be 
the  absolutely  earliest  phase  of  voluntary  action,  and  to  give 
reasons  for  such  statement. 

Two  things  have  to  be  included  in  this  primordial  estimate, 
the  one  casting  light  upon  the  other, — viz.,  the  earliest  traceable 
germ  of  Will,  and  the  most  highly  generalized  form  of  the 
power.  The  first  presupposes  the  second,  in  the  order  of  inquiry  ; 
when  the  second  is  once  settled,  the  first  is  partly  settled  also. 
Hence,  it  seems  desirable  to  commence  with  the  attempt  to  reach 
the  most  general  type  of  the  act  of  willing.  We  assume  that 
neither  the  act  of  choosing  between  alternative  courses,  nor  the 
precognition  of  an  object  willed,  can  be  taken  as  the  earliest 
assignable  position  of  the  mind  in  willing. 

27.  Ill  arriving  at  the  most  highly  g,eiieralized  definition 
of  Will,  we  should  carefully  keep  apart  the  mental  and 
the  physical, — a  matter  of  some  difficulty,  seeing  that  the 
executive  of  the  Will  so  often  shows  itself  in  muscular 
movements — that  is,  in  putting  the  active  organs  in  motion. 
Still,  there  is  a  proper  mode  of  observing  the  separation  ; 
and  in  doing  so,  in  the  present  case,  priority  is  most  properly 
given  to  the  mental  fact.  The  Will  then  is  shown  in  the 
presence  of  some  pleasure  or  pain,  followed  by  an  activity — 
in  the  one  case,  to  retain,  husband,  or  increase  the  pleasure, 
and,  in  the  other,  to  subdue  or  diminish  the  pain.  In  short, 
Will  is  made  up  of  an  antecedent  motive,  resolvable  into 
pleasure  or  pain,  and  a  consequent  movement  or  series  of 
movements ;  the  movements  having  reference  to  the  one 
great  end  of  contributing  to  our  enjoyment.  This  may  be 
taken  provisionally  as  the  most  generally  received  statement 
of  the  law  of  the  Will,  but  subject  to  modifying  conditions 
and  complications,  which,  however,  may  be  reserved  until 
the  analysis  of  the  general  situation  is  completed. 

The  antecedent  fact,  or  motive,  is  an  urgency  involved 
in  our  pleasurable  and  painful  conditions  to  do  something. 
What  that  something  is  to  be,  and  how  it  is  to  be  discovered, 
is  the  history  of  our  voluntary  power,  and  is  a  vast  process 


THE    NATURE    OF    MOTIVE.  323 

of  acquirement, — in  fact,  a  leading  department  of  our  life 
education.  At  the  earlier  stages  of  our  being,  we  have 
many  pains  operating  as  motives,  without  any  established 
connexion  between  the  specific  pain  and  its  remedial  move- 
ment, even  supposing  such  movement  were  at  our  command 
if  we  only  knew  it. 

The  first  ^Doint  in  the  history,  then,  is— How  do  we  pass 
from  the  state  of  blankness  in  the  connexion  of  motive  and 
act,  to  the  state  of  completed  connexion,  which  renders  the 
motives  efficient  as  well  as  urgent?  To  recount  this  at 
length,  is  to  supply  the  full  development  of  the  Will, — which 
is  not  now  intended.  All  that  belongs  to  the  present  task 
is  to  state  the  primitive,  initial,  or  instinctive  circumstance 
that  renders  it  possible.  So  far  as  appears,  this  primitive 
datum  is  as  follows  : — Given  a  coincidence  of  a  pain  with  a 
movement  that  consciously  alleviates  it,  or  of  a  pleasure 
with  a  movement  that  consciously  increases  it,  such  move- 
ment will  be  maintained  or  increased  so  long  as  it  has  the 
peculiar  effect  described.  This,  at  least,  is  a  presupposition 
not  to  be  dispensed  with.  It  is,  moreover,  the  last  psychical 
foundation  or  generalized  link  of  voluntary  action  :  we  seem 
incapable  of  resolving  it  into  anything  more  general.  With- 
out such  a  link,  in  whatever  terms  we  may  state  it,  no 
progress  in  volmitary  acquisition  is  conceivable. 

This  primordial  situation  being  assumed,  it  has  to  be 
implemented  by  a  means  of  bringing  about  the  requisite 
coincidences  between  motive  and  movement.  Here  it  is 
that  our  voluntary  education  has  to  commence  its  upward 
course  in  difficulties  and  struggles ;  which  difficulties  have 
to  be  surmounted  by  a  method  that,  in  the  first  instance, 
must  be  pronounced  random  or  fortuitous.  Such  is  the 
second  leading  assumption  at  the  foundation  of  the  Will. 

The  source  of  this  fortuitous  commencement  that  is  to  lead  up 
to  the  requisite  happy  coincidences  is  variously  stated.  In  the 
present  work,  the  principal  stress  is  laid  upon  Spontaneity,  as 
growing  out  of  the  natural  overflow  of  activity  in  the  healthy 
subject.      Eeasons   are  given  to  show  that  this  is  the  form  of 


324  THE    INSTINCTIVE    GEEMS    OF   VOLITION. 

movement  best  adapted  to  the  purpose.  The  principal  alternative 
mode  is  the  mobility  growing  out  of  emotional  diffusion,  on  which 
Dr.  James  Ward  places  exclusive  reliance;  Mr.  Darwin  inclining  to 
the  same  view,  but  rather  implicitly  than  explicitly.  If  there  are 
spontaneous  tendencies  to  movement  in  the  muscular  organs  at 
large,  they  must  be  of  regular  and  stated  occurrence  ;  the  in- 
vigoration  of  the  muscles  and  muscular  centres  is  a  periodic  and 
a  recurrent  fact,  while  the  emotional  outburst  is  occasional  and 
uncertain.  Moreover,  the  emotional  grouping  is  less  easy  to 
dissever  than  the  chance  movements  of  spontaneity  ;  and  hence 
the  greater  difficulty  of  securing  the  concurrence  of  the  appro- 
priate action  by  itself. 

A  third,  and  final,  postulate  is  the  confirmation  of  a 
coincidence  once  hit  upon,  through  the  plastic  force  of  in- 
telligence, otherwise  described  as  Retentiveness  or  Memory. 
Witliout  this,  the  lucky  coincidences  w^ould  be  barren  or 
unproductive.  The  conditions  of  hastening  the  operation 
are  conditions  belonging  to  the  known  working  of  the 
great  upbuilding  energy  of  our  constitution.  The  effect  is, 
occasionally,  so  decisive  that  one  single  coincidence  forges 
a  link  between  the  two  concurring  states  that  is  adequate 
for  all  future  time. 

28.  By  the  law  of  concomitance  of  Mind  and  Body, 
these  stages  in  the  growth  of  the  Will,  which  have  been 
stated  as  purely  subjective  facts,  have  a  definite  physical 
foundation,  in  which  physical  laws  have  their  full  play. 

In  our  earliest  consciousness  of  voluntary  efforts,  what 
we  are  aware  of  is  a  power  to  instigate  trials  in  a  random 
way  (the  appropriate  linking  being  still  a  blank),  on  the 
chance  of  arriving  at  the  suitable  coincidence.  This  is  an 
advanced  stage  in  the  growth  of  Will ;  yet  we  can  scarcely 
conceive  to  ourselves  the  previous  stages.  There  are 
occasions  when  we  have  a  pain  to  relieve,  and  do  not 
consciously  enter  upon  trials  ;  while,  if  a  fortunate  coin- 
cidence were  to  occur,  we  clench  the  coincidence,  and  make 
a  step  accordingly.  We  have  arrived  at  the  stage  of  trial 
and  error,  but  may  refrain  from  consciously  acting  upon  it — 


BEGINNINGS  OF  EARLIEST  PROMPTINGS   HYPOTHETICAL.    325 

a  mere  chance  omission,  accounted  for  by  want  of  urgency. 
It  would  take  a  revelation  of  early  evolutionary  processes 
to  indicate  our  mode  of  arriving  at  this  familiar  stage,  which 
must  be,  after  all,  speculative  and  hypothetical.  We  lay 
down  the  law  of  acting  out  a  coincidence,  as  an  absolutely 
primitive  or  primordial  endowment,  because  we  find  it  in 
operation  all  through  life  (and  in  the  lower  annnals  as  well), 
and  through  all  variety  of  circumstances  ;  we  being  unable 
to  dispense  with  its  help  in  our  most  mature  accomphsh- 
ments  of  voluntary  control.* 

Our  voluntary  education  notoriously  proceeds  upon  the 
method  of  using  each  finished  acquirement  to  build  up 
others  ;  thus  giving  greater  compass  and  efficiency  to  our 
trial-and-error  capability.  No  additional  principle  enters 
into  the  case.  It  is  the  law  of  acquisition  in  every  depart- 
ment. 

29.  It  IS  illustrative  of  the  foregoing  positions  to  cite  in  a 
pointed  manner  the  Contrasts  of  Will.  These  contrasts  are 
specific  modes  under  the  one  genus  of  Active  Movements  of 
the  muscular  organs. 

The  movements  of  the  involuntary  muscles  may  be  set 
aside,  in  the  first  instance,  as  too  far  removed  from  the  proper 
voluntary  type,  although  analogous  to  a  certain  extent.  The 
illustrative  contrasts,   therefore,  may  commence  with    the 

*  The  law  of  immediate  connexion  of  a  present  movement  with  a  present 
feeling,  without  any  intervening  link,  is  seen  in  operation  all  through  life, 
notwithstanding  the  occurrence  of  intermediate  linkings.  It  is  of  the  very 
essence  of  trial-and-error,  in  which  the  check  of  an  unfavourable  movement, 
aiid  the  maintenance  of  a  favourable,  are  instantaneous  and  sure.  Turning 
a  corner  and  encountering  a  chilling  wind,  we  are  urged  to  stop  or  retreat  by 
a  tendency  that  needs  no  deliberation,  and  no  interposition  of  an  idea  or 
conception  of  the  act.  It  is  shown  in  the  course  of  our  voluntary  education 
how  this  primordial  impetus  is  the  essential  antecedent  of  all  other  forms  of 
voluntary  agency. 

Our  familiar  daily  experience  in  the  way  of  restlessness,  or  shifting  of 
attitude,  indicates  the  will  in  its  initial  form.  The  slightest  uneasiness  that 
a  change  of  position  can  remedy  usually  instigates  such  a  change,  even 
although  consciousness  is  engrossed  with  other  things.  It  certainly  could  not 
be  said  that  the  removal  of  a  fly  from  the  forehead  involves  the  elaborate 
routine  of  choice  and  full  conception  of  the  act  to  be  performed. 


326  THE    INSTINCTIVE    GEKMS    OF   VOLITION. 

Instincts,  whose  end  is  the  conservation  of  the  system,  and 
their  instrument  the  voluntary  muscles.  The  point  of  con- 
trast here  is  the  possession  of  the  powers  at  birth  ;  education, 
experience,  and  conscious  struggle  being  dispensed  with. 

As  a  second  contrast,  we  may  cite  the  Spontaneous  move- 
ments in  their  earliest  aspect,  while  as  yet  unassociated  with 
definite  uses.  Although  we  put  forward  these  as  a  con- 
stituent element  in  the  growth  of  the  will,  we  do  not  call 
them  voluntary  until  they  have  gone  through  the  process  of 
linking  themselves  with  our  feelings  and  wants. 

The  Emotional  movements  are  properly  contrasted  with 
the  Voluntary,  although  the  contrast  is  often  difficult  to  set 
out.  AVhat  are  usually  termed  movements  of  expression  are 
really  a  mixture  of  emotional  and  voluntary ;  the  pure  or 
typical  examples  of  emotion  being  few  in  number,  and  not 
easy  to  detect  and  isolate.  In  this  complication  lies  the 
great  subtlety  of  the  question  as  to  the  absolute  priority,  in 
our  mental  history,  of  emotion  or  volition.  There  are  un- 
doubted cases  where  an  emotional  wave  carries  with  it 
movements  whose  origin  may  be  attributed  to  the  urgency  of 
a  painful  state  which  they  alleviate  ;  such  are  the  sounds  of 
the  voice  that  bring  companions  to  assist  in  distress.  There 
is  not  an  equal  reason  for  attributing  the  same  origin  to  such 
pure  outbursts  of  pleasure  as  in  laughter  and  the  various 
movements  of  ecstatic  joy.  The  shiverings  of  cold,  the 
tremblings  of  fear,  the  sudden  flow  of  tears,  the  collapse  of 
pain  generally,  would  seem  to  be  purely  organic  consequences 
of  the  nervous  state  accompanying  the  feelings  themselves. 
On  the  other  hand,  a  volitional  origin  may  be  attributed  to 
the  stare  of  surprise,  the  flight  from  danger,  the  gestures  of 
the  irascible  outburst,  the  tones  and  outward  shows  of  affec- 
tion, the  upturned  gaze  of  reverence.  A  very  large  number 
of  the  attitudes  expressive  of  passion  that  are  employed  in 
art  are  volitional  only  in  their  present  bearing,  and  not  in 
their  earlier  origin. 

Note  on  Pleasure  as  a  Voluntary  Motive. — In  considering  the  motives 
to  the  will  as  constituted  by  Pleasure  and  Pain,  we  find  the  least  ambiguous 


PLEASURE  AS  A  VOLUNTARY  MOTIVE.        327 

aiid  miqiiestionable  to  be  Pain.  So  much  is  this  the  case,  that  plausible 
attempts  are  made  to  reduce  under  Pain  the  entire  motive  urgency-  of  our 
Volition  ;  the  seeming -influence  of  Pleasm-e  as  a  motive  being  explained 
away  by  a  reference  to  a  supposed  indirect  agency  of  pain. 

The  imiversality  of  the  motive  efficacy  of  pain  is  most  manifest. 
The  exceptions  are  of  a  kind  to  leave  the  rule  substantially  intact. 
One  notable  exception  is  the  case  where  we  console  ourselves  by  an 
emotional  outbm'st,  which  disposes  of  the  pain  by  simply  abrogating  it. 
Another  exception  is  the  exhausted  state  of  our  active  powers,  which  no 
longer  respond  to  the  prompting,  or,  if  they  do,  leave  us  in  a  still  worse 
condition  of  suffering.  Indeed,  there  are  always  possible  counter 
motives  to  restrain  the  natural  workings  of  our  painful  moments.  A 
higher  volition  ma^'  intervene  to  suppress  the  motive  power  of  an  actual 
pain,  while  the  mere  fact  of  such  intervention  serves  to  confirm  .the 
genuineness  of  its  motive  force. 

That  pleasure  seeking  its  own  continuance  or  its  increase  is  a 
voluntary  motive,  we  find  abundantly  exemplified.  The  Appetites 
contam  this  situation,  along  with  the  urgency  to  remove  pain.  The  state 
called  desire  involves  alike  the  diminution  of  pain  and  the  attainment  of 
positive  pleasure.  A  common  form  of  human  weakness  is  the  pursuit 
of  pleasure  beyond  all  reasonable  limit,  not  to  speak  of  incurring  pain 
as  well. 

The  coimter  aspect  of  the  urgency  of  pleasure  in  these  instances  is 
a  certain  apparent  tendency  in  pleasiu-able  states  to  arrest  or  bring  to  a 
stand-still  our  voluntary  promptings.  There  is  a  class  of  pleasures  that 
may  be  described  as  satisfying  and  serene,  disposing  us  to  remam  where 
we  are,  rather  than  enter  on  the  piu'suit  of  something  still  higher.  These 
cases,  however,  are  not  conclusive,  if  they  are  meant  to  prove  that  pleasure 
in  general  impedes,  instead  of  furthering,  the  voluntary  promptings.  For 
one  thing,  we  may  be  well  aware  that  to  push  our  present  enjoyment  to 
a  still  higher  pitch  is  to  run  upon  the  bristhng  point  of  some  pain,  which 
pain  would  be  the  genuine  motive  to  qiiiescence.  This  is  the  pru- 
dential or  precautionary  safeguard  against  excesses  in  the  love  of 
pleasure.  It  would  leave  intact  the  position  that  pleasure  as  such  urges 
us  to  seek  it  in  still  greater  amounts. 

Even  quiescent  pleasure  is  vohuitary,  so  far  as  the  continuance  of 
it  is  concerned ;  mere  dm-ation  may  count  to  the  consciousness  as  a 
motive,  no  less  than  intensity  or  degree. 

To  keep  what  we  have  would  follow  as  an  effect  of  deprivation, — 
which  is  really  a  mode  of  pain. 

The  point  then  would  be : — In  what  circumstances  may  pleasure  so 
completely  soothe  the  voluntary  cravings,  that  we  remain  in  perfect 
quiescence  and  contentment,  there  being  no  rocks  ahead  in  aiming  at  its 
augmentation,  and  no  danger  of  its  falhng  away  under  inaction  ?     If  it 


328  THE    INSTINCTIVE    GERMS    OF    VOLITION. 

be  urged  that  onr  active  powers  may  be  at  such  a  low  ebb  that  further 
attainments  would  cost  too  much  effort,  we  should  simply  be  brought 
round  again  to  one  of  the  forms  of  pain  as  a  motive. 

Perhaps,  the  nearest  approach  to  the  quieting  influence  of  pure 
pleasure  is  the  case  where  we  find  ourselves  at  a  pitch  of  unusual  enjoy- 
ment,— something  far  beyond  our  habitual  experience,  something  that  we 
rarely  encounter,  and  cannot  readily  imagine  to,  be  increased.  The 
out-going  of  the  will  in  such  cases  would  rather  be  for  the  resumption 
or  the  recurrence  of  the  state,  and  not  for  increasing  its  intensity. 

It  is  not  uncommon  to  set  aside  both  pain  and  pleasure  as  motives 
to  the  will,  and  to  substitute  the  state  of  Desire, — which  has  the  merit  of 
covering  the  whole  of  the  ground.  This,  however,  is  an  imsatisfactory 
solution.  Desire  is  not  a  primitive  fact,  but  a  result  of  antecedents 
that  can  be  stated  apart  from  voluntary  urgency.  These  antecedents 
must  still  consist  of  either  pleasure  or  pain,  or  else  that  peculiar  form 
of  incitement  to  action  known  as  the  Fixed  Idea.  It  is,  no  doubt,  the 
insufficiency  of  the  name  Pain  to  cover  the  whole  range  of  our  motives, 
especially  the  cases  where  pursuit  of  pleasure  is  the  conspicuous  fact, 
that  has  led  to  the  adoption  of  the  wider  term,  notwithstanding  that  it 
expresses  more  than  either  pleasure  or  pain  alone.  We  want  some 
general  phrase  that  would  equally  apply  to  pleasurable  and  to  painful 
situations,  —something  that  would  indicate  a  sense  of  insufficiency,  or 
dissatisfaction,  and  would  apply  equally  to  the  removal  of  pain  proper 
and  to  the  attainment  of  iileasure.  , 

So  far,  the  theory  of  voluntary  action  has  been  conducted  on 
the  purely  psychical  aspect.  Every  suggestion  of  physical  cause 
and  eifect  has  been  carefully  left  out  of  account :  the  physical 
instrumentality  in  our  corporeal  acts  does  not  constitute  an 
essential  link  in  the  sequence  of  motive  and  result.  It  is,  indeed, 
possible  and  not  unusual  to  refer  the  subjective  sequence  to  a  line 
of  physical  cause  and  effect,  and  to  show  a  certain  consistency 
between  the  physical  and  the  mental  sequences.  The  law  that  a 
movement  bringing  pain  tends  to  be  arrested,  and  a  movement 
bringing  pleasure  to  be  promoted,  is  with  some  plausibility  referred 
to  a  general  principle  of  nervous  action,  whereby,  seeing  that  pleasure 
is  in  so  many  cases  associated  with  increase,  and  pain  with  diminu- 
tion, of  vital  energy,  there  would  grow  out  of  this  circumstance  a  dis- 
position of  pleasure  to  feed,  and  of  pain  to  sap,  its  own  producing 
energy.  There  is  an  undoubted  consistency  between  the  two 
sides  of  our  being  in  this  hypothesis.  If  the  opposite  were  the 
fact  throughout  our  whole  framework,  it  is  quite  apparent  that  we 


PHYSICAL    RENDERING   OF  THE    VOLUNTARY    SEQUENCE.     329 

should  be  urged  into  suicidal  courses.  If  the  hypothesis  itself 
were  fully,  strictly,  literally  realized  in  everything  that  we  did,  our 
self-protection  and  the  resources  of  self-preservation  would  be  far 
beyond  what  we  actually  experience.  It  has  been  abundantly 
seen,  under  the  induction  of  pleasure  and  pain,  that  we  have 
pleasures  whose  nervous  accompaniments  are  in  favour  of  healthy 
action,  while  not  a  few  others  are  the  reverse.  So  far,  the  law  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  viewed  simply  in  the  aspect  of  feeling,  has  its 
anomalies  repeated  in  the  law  of  the  will, — that  is,  in  the  tendency 
of  pleasure  to  nourish,  and  of  pain  to  deplete,  our  active  energy. 

The  hypothesis  in  question  demands  for  its  adequacy  a  far- 
reaching,  although  not  incredible  or  impossible,  assumption, — viz., 
that  the  tendency  of  pleasure,  through  the  medium  of  its  physical 
accompaniments,  to  heighten  for  the  moment  the  active  energies 
of  the  framework  in  general,  somehow  finds  a  way  to  concentrate 
upon  the  specific  movement  adapted  to  the  precise  case.  This  is 
a  very  large  demand  in  itself,  and  would  seem  to  naedagreat  number 
of  chance  experiments  before  the  lucky  coincidence  is  reached.  The 
hypothesis  is  by  no  means  impossible  ;  but  its  truth  or  falsehood 
has  no  place  in  the  subjective  theory  of  the  will,  as  established 
upon  an  induction  of  subjective  facts.  Its  natural  place  is  under 
the  hypothesis  of  Evolution,  where  it  is  an  important,  if  not  indis- 
pensable, item.  It  is  so  far  a  useful  hypothesis  in  assisting  expo- 
sition of  the  subjective  theory  of  will ;  but  that  theory  stands 
upon  its  own  evidence,  and  is  nowise  dependent  upon  such  a 
hypothesis. 

THE    HIGHER   INSTINCTS. 

80.  The  subject  of  Instinct  has  its  widest  range  and 
greatest  subtlety  in  connexion  with  our  intellectual  powers. 
While  by  far  the  largest  part  of  our  intelligence  is  a  matter 
of  acquisition,  conducted  under  our  own  observation,  there 
is,  in  point  of  fact,  an  instinctive  or  primordial  start  which 
ought  to  be  more  or  less  easily  assigned.  In  some  im- 
portant departments  of  self-preservation,  there  are  primitive 
powers,  not  merely  of  feeling  and  of  will,  but  of  truly  in- 
telligent guidance,  such  as,  in  other  cases,  comes  to  us  by 
experience  solely. 


330  THE    HIGHER    INSTINCTS. 

The  inquiries  into  infant  development,  which  have  en- 
deavoured to  assign  precise  dates  as  well  as  the  order  of 
sequence  of  the  childish  powers,  have  for  their  end  to 
find  out,  if  possible,  what  is  absolutely  primitive  in  our 
intellectual  endowments.  The  problem  is  necessarily  com- 
plicated, if  only  by  the  circumstance  that  a  certain  time  is 
needed  for  the  actual  manifestation  of  capabilities  that  must 
be  possessed  at  birth. 

The  knowledge  of  our  intellectual  powers  is  properly 
gained,  in  the  first  instance,  by  our  observation  of  the 
workings  of  intellect  subsequent  to  the  stage  of  infancy. 
We  can  see  before  our  eyes  the  history  of  successive 
acquisitions,  from  commencement  to  consummation.  On 
this  experience,  we  base  our  formulae  of  the  intellectual 
powers  ;  and  we  make  use  of  it  to  read  backwards  into  the 
earlier  stages,  checking  this  retrospective  reading  by  actual 
observations  of  properly  childish  manifestations. 

One  of  the  most  prominent  facts  of  our  intelligence  is 
our  gift  of  reading  and  interpreting  the  manifested  expres- 
sion of  those  about  us.  The  central  fact  of  this  power,  in 
its  highest  refinement,  is  shown  in  regard  to  the  features 
of  the  human  face.  The  delicacy  of  our  perception  of  the 
minutest  fluctuations  of  facial  attitudes  and  movements, 
and  our  facility  in  their  emotional  rendering,  whether  in- 
stinctive or  acquired,  or  both,  constitute  a  vast  portion  of 
our  mental  accomplishments.*  It  not  merely  teaches  us 
what  are  the  passing  moods  of  our  fellows,  but  is  a  great 
moral  or  emotional  influence :   it  wakens    our  sympathies 

*  The  extraordinary  hold  that  human  expression  has  taken  of  our  inmost 
sense  faculty  is  proved  by  the  influence  of  the  merest  scratches  of  resem- 
blance ;  the  line  of  a  mouth,  the  outline  of  an  eye,  without  even  the  full  face. 
This  is  a  tremendous  fact  of  itself ;  and  to  analyze  its  implications  is  to 
dissolve  deep-seated  forces  of  association  beyond  what  even  a  life  of  ex- 
perience could  give.  The  interest  in  animals  very  unlike  ourselves,  the 
personation  of  brute  matter  and  chance  forms  and  outlines,  is  unique  and 
overpowering.  So  with  outward  appearances  generally ;  the  extreme,  perhaps, 
being  the  expression  of  death, — which  probably  no  education  could  eradicate 
to  the  pitch  of  making  us  see  in  a  corpse  lifeless  matter. 


INSTINCTIVE    READING   OF   EMOTIONAL    EXPRESSION.    331 

and  our  antipathies — arousing  in  ourselves  a  certain  amount 
of  the  feehng  that  is  manifested. 

A  certain  rationale  of  the  development  of  this  power,  in 
the  course  of  experience,  may  be  readily  assigned.  It  may 
be  said  that  we  can  associate  good  offices  from  others,  in 
the  way  of  substantial  gratifications,  with  the  aspect  of 
features  and  demeanour  wherewith  these  are  accompanied. 
The  process  is  perfectly  natural  and  familiar ;  yet,  the 
precocity,  the  maturity,  the  firmness  of  the  linking  thus 
established  would  seem  to  be  out  of  all  proportion  to  the 
opportunities  afforded.  In  such  circumstances,  it  is  proper 
to  put  the  question, — Has  Instinct  any  part  in  the  result  ? 

The  most  decided  criterion  in  the  case  is  the  earliest 
date  when  the  infant  is  distinctively  susceptible  to  the  broad 
difference  between  the  smiling,  the  frowning,  and  the  dis- 
tressed expression  of  a  familiar  face.  Among  the  multiplied 
observations  of  infant  development,  this  specific  point  is 
seldom  adverted  to.  The  following  experience,  given  by 
Darwin  in  the  history  of  his  own  child,  is  notable  and 
suggestive  : — *  With  respect  to  the  feeling  of  sympathy,  this 
was  clearly  shown  at  six  months  and  eleven  days  by  his 
melancholy  face,  with  the  corners  of  his  mouth  well 
depressed,  when  his  nurse  pretended  to  cry  '  (Mind,  1st 
Series,  vol.  ii.  p.  289).  Considering  that  the  so-called  power 
of  sympathy  rests  upon  a  correct  interpretation  already 
possessed  of  the  manifestations  of  painful  feeling,  the  state 
of  advancement  of  the  infant's  perception  of  manifested 
emotional  workings  is  decisively  put  in  evidence.  The 
age  assigned  totally  excludes  the  reference  to  experience  as 
the  genesis  of  the  power.  We  must  descend  to  the  depths 
of  primordial  endowment  for  any  adequate  explanation  of 
the  fact.  No  doubt,  it  belongs  to  the  researches  bearing 
upon  infant  development  to  ascertain  what  share  of  this 
great  accomplishment  may  fairly  be  attributed  to  instinct, — 
that  is,  heredity. 

Without  speculating  further  on  what  must  be  a  laborious 
determination  of  a  matter  of  fact,  which  has  as  yet  gone  but 


332  THE    HIGHEE   INSTINCTS. 

a  little  way,  we  cannot  help  taking  notice  of  one  very  im- 
portant implication, not  confined  to  this  special  department, — 
namely  the  instinctive  rendering  of  tri-dimensional  space. 
This  is  a  problem  of  intellectual  instinct,  standing  apart 
and  alone,  and  yet  the  groundwork  of  many  others. 

Our  feeling  ourselves  at  home  in  the  extended  world, 
from  the  date  of  our  earliest  recollections,  implies  a  vast 
intellectual  endowment,  however  it  be  accounted  for.  That 
much  of  it  is  engrained  in  us  at  birth  is  proved  in  a  variety 
of  ways  ;  the  intelligent  reading  of  expression  being  not  the 
most  decisive.  In  regard  to  it,  the  salient  circumstance  is 
the  inadequacy  of  our  education  during  the  first  three  years 
to  lead  us  up  to  what  our  consciousness  can  attest  as  our 
power  of  conceiving  the  external  world  at  that  date.  More 
decisive,  because  less  ambiguous,  are  the  instincts  of  the  lower 
animals, — as,  for  example,  their  power  of  intelligent  guidance 
within  a  few  hours  or  days  of  birth.  The  bird  that  can 
measure  its  aim  at  a  grain  of  corn  as  soon  as  it  leaves  the 
egg,  and  the  quadruped  that  can  find  itself  at  home  in  a  day 
or  two  after  being  dropped,  possess  by  implication  nearly 
all  that  is  involved  in  the  perception  of  extended  magnitude 
or  space.  In  man,  the  known  acquisitions  connected  with 
the  outer  framework  of  things  bear  a  very  large  proportion 
to  what  can  possibly  be  assigned  to  him  at  birth  ;  yet,  this 
last  share  is  something  of  very  considerable,  although  not 
easily  definable,  amount.  In  the  lower  animals,  the  dispro- 
portion is  not  so  remarkable  :  when  we  descend  below  the 
mammals,  the  instinct  of  space  and  its  belongings  claims  a 
near  approach  to  the  superinduced  acquirements. 

It  belongs  to  a  later  stage  of  the  exposition — when  what 
is  attainable  at  present  in  our  knowledge  of  the  intellectual 
processes,  as  gathered  from  our  life  experience,  is  made  use 
of — to  survey  our  various  primary  notions  among  which 
Space  naturally  takes  a  lead.  The  foregoing  remarks  are 
intended  as  forming  a  bridge  of  transition  between  the  two 
departments  of  Instinct  and  Intelligence  (see  note  F). 


THE    INTELLECT 


WE  now  proceed  to  view  the  Intellect,  or  the  thinking 
function  of  the  mind.  The  various  faculties  known 
as  Memory,  Judgment,  Abstraction,  Eeason,  Imagination, 
— are  modes  or  varieties  of  Intellect.  Although  we  cannot 
be  said  ever  to  exert  this  portion  of  our  mental  system  in 
total  separation  from  the  other  elements  of  mind — Feeling 
and  Volition, — yet  scientific  method  requires  it  to  be  de- 
scribed apart. 

The  primary,  or  fundamental  attributes  of  Thought,  or 
Intelligence,  have  been  already  stated  to  be, — Consciousness 
of  Difference,  Consciousness  of  Agreement,  and  Retentiveness. 
The  exposition  of  the  Intellect  will  consist  in  tracing 
out  the  workings  of  these  several  attributes  ;  the  previous 
book  containing  the  enumeration  of  all  that  we  have  to 
discriminate,  identify,  and  retain. 

(1)  The  most  fundamental  property  is  disceimination  or 
Consciousness  of  Difference.  To  be  distinctively  affected  by 
two  or  more  successive  impressions  may  be  considered  the 
primary  fact  of  consciousness.  This  fact,  however,  does 
not  stand  alone  in  our  developed  experience.  Changes  of 
impression  produce  at  once  phenomena  of  difference  and  of 
agreement.  But,  although  occurring  together,  the  two 
modes  can  always  be  kept  separate,  and  their  intellectual 
consequences  run  far  apart ;  the  one,  discrimination,  pointing 
to  the  individual,  the  other,  agreement,  pointing  to  the 
general. 

In  our  handling  of  the  feelings  of  movement  and  the 
sensations,  the  classified  enumeration  in  detail  took  for 
granted  the  consciousness  of  difference  as  the  groundwork 
of  the  whole.     In  other  words,  the  intellectual  property  of 


336  THE    INTELLECT. 

discrimination  was  tacitly  assumed  in  advance,  as  necessary 
for  the  exposition  of  the  department  of  Sensation  proper.  In 
fact,  the  manifestation  of  the  quahty  as  regards  our  primary 
states  has  been  pushed  almost  to  exhaustion  ;  leaving  no 
proper  sphere  for  illustration  under  Intellect  proper. 

Delicacy  of  discrimination  varies  greatly  in  different 
senses  and  in  different  classes  of  sensations,  and  thus  marks 
out  the  higher  and  lower  intellectual  quaUty  of  each,  or  the 
fitness  to  enter  into  intellectual  trains  and  combinations. 

There  still  remains  the  region  of  accjiiired  discriminations, 
the  result  of  the  retentive  power  of  the  mind  ;  being,  so  to 
speak,  educated  differences, — as  in  the  processes  of  chemical 
testing,  the  diagnosis  of  disease,  and  the  decisions  of  legal 
interpretation.  There  is  no  separate  law  of  the  intellect  at 
work  in  these  cases,  beyond  what  belongs  to  the  powers  of 
acquisition  and  the  employment  of  our  acquired  products 
as  applied  to  practice. 

The  consciousness  of  Agreement  is  the  natural  comple- 
ment of  discrimination  in  the  progress  of  our  knowledge. 
The  two  together  exhaust  the  ultimate  definition  of  know- 
ledge. Agreement,  in  the  form  of  Similarity  in  Diversity,  is 
one  grand  reproductive  forc6  of  the  human  intellect,  subject 
to  assignable  conditions  of  the  highest  import,  on  which 
account  it  occupies  a  large  division  of  the  treatment  of  the 
Intellectual  Powers.  In  point  of  arrangement,  however, 
it  is  preceded  by  the  discussion  of  the  third  of  the  great 
fundamental  properties, — viz.,  Betentiveness. 

(2)  Eetentiveness,  then,  is  the  name  for  the  most 
generalised  aspect  of  our  powers  of  memory,  habit,  or 
acquisition,  and  may  be  described  under  two  modes  or 
gradations. 

First.  The  continuance  or  persistence  of  conscious 
impressions,  after  the  withdrawal  of  the  agent  or  cause. 
When  the  ear  is  struck  by  a  sonorous  wave,  there  follows 
the  sensation  of  sound  ;  but  the  cessation  of  the  cause  does 
not  mean  the  cessation  of  the  mental  excitement :  there  is 
a  certain  continuation  of  the  feeling,  although  usually  much 


ULTIMATE  PROCESSES  OF  INTELLECT.         337 

feebler  in  degree,  while  the  same  in  kind.  Thus  it  is  that 
our  mental  states  due  to  external  causes  outlast  the  causes 
themselves,  and  constitute  for  us  a  life  in  memory,  over-  and 
above  the  life  in  actuality. 

A  far  higher  mode  of  retentiveness  remains.  After  the 
impression  of  a  sound  has  entirely  vanished,  the  mind  being 
occupied  with  a  number  of  other  things,  there  is  a  possibility 
of  recovering  from  temporary  oblivion  the  mental  effect,  or 
idea,  without  repeating  the  actual  sound.  AVe  bring  back 
to  mind,  or  remember,  sights,  and  sounds,  and  feelings,  and 
thoughts,  that  may  not  have  been  in  actual  consciousness 
for  long  periods  of  time.  This  higher  mode  of  retentiveness 
supposes  that  something  has  been  ingrained  in  the  mental 
and  nervous  structure ;  that  an  effect  has  been  produced 
such  that  any  number  of  succeeding  impressions  have  not 
been  able  to  efface.  Now,  one  circumstance  or  condition  of 
restoring  any  one  of  these  former  states  of  consciousness,  is 
the  presence  of  something  that  had  more  or  less  frequently 
been  in  company  -with  that  state.  Thus,  w'e  are  reminded  of 
a  name — as  star,  tree,  house — by  seeing  the  thing ;  the  pre- 
vious concurrence  of  name  and  thing  has  brought  about  a 
mental  adhesion  between  the  two.  So  pervasive  is  this 
condition  in  the  workings  of  the  Retentive,  or  Plastic,  pro- 
perty of  the  mind,  that  we  take  it  along  with  the  designation 
Association  hy  Contiguity,  and  carry  out  the  exemplification 
accordingly. 

(3)  The  consciousness  of  Agreement  will  have  next 
to  be  viewed  as  a  mode  of  mental  reproduction  totally  dis- 
tinct from  the  foregoing.  After  experiencing  a  certain  im- 
pression, and  passing  from  it  to  something  else,  the  recur 
rence  produces  a  certain  shock  of  consciousness — the  shock 
of  recognition  ;  which  is  of  various  degrees  according  to 
assignable  circumstances.  The  transition  from  one  im- 
pression to  a  second  gives  the  consciousness  of  difference 
or  discrimination  ;  the  occurrence  of  likeness  in  the  midst 
of   change   yields  a  new  and   distinct  effect,  the  effect    of 

agreement.     AVhen  we  see  in  the  child  the  features  of  the 

22 


338  THE    INTELLECT. 

man,  we  are  struck  by  agreement  in  the  midst  of  differ- 
ence. Thus,  then,  the  power  of  recognition,  identification, 
or  discovery  of  hkeness  in  unhkeness,  is  a  further  means 
of  bringing  to  consciousness  past  ideas  ;  and  is  spoken  of 
as  the  Associating,  or  Reproductive,  principle  of  Similarity. 
AVe  are  as  often  reminded  of  things  by  their  resemblance  to 
something  present,  as  by  their  previous  proxitnity  to  what 
is  now  in  the  view.  Contiguity  and  Similarity  express  two 
great  principles,  or  forces,  of  mental  reproduction;  they  are 
distinct  powers  of  the  mind,  varjdng  in  degree  among  in- 
dividuals— the  one  sometimes  preponderating,  and  some- 
times the  other.  The  first  governs  Acquisition,  the  second 
Invention. 

The  commonly  recognized  intellectual  faculties  will  be 
found  to  resolve  themselves  into  the  three  primitive  opera- 
tions of  intellect  now  specified.  The  faculty  called  Memorij 
is  founded  chiefly  in  the  Ketentive  Power,  or  contiguity, 
with  a  certain  aid  from  Similarity.  The  processes  of 
Reason  and  Abstraction  are  in  the  main  due  to  Similarity  ; 
there  being  in  both  the  identifpng  of  resemblances  under 
more  or  less  of  difference.  What  is  termed  Judgment  may 
consist  in  Discrimination,  on  the  one  hand,  or  in  the  Sense 
of  Agreement,  on  the  other :  we  judge  two  or  more 
things  either  to  differ  or  to  agree.  It  is  impossible  to  find 
any  case  of  Judging  that  does  not,  in  the  last  resort,  mean 
one  or  other  of  these  two  essential  activities  of  the  intellect. 
Lastly,  Imagination  is  a  product  of  all  the  three  fundamentals 
of  our  intelligence,  with  the  addition  of  an  element  of  Emo- 
tion. 

The  exposition  of  Intellect  proper  will  consist  mainly  in 
a  full  development  of  the  two  processes  of  Eetentiveness 
and  Agreement.  These  will  constitute  the  two  first  chapters. 
A  third  chapter  will  be  devoted  to  the  cases  of  Complicated 
mental  Reproduction,  including  the  association  by  Contrast. 
A  fourth  will  deal  with  the  employment  of  the  intellectual 
forces  to  form  new  constructions — the  Creative  or  Inventive 
faculty  of  the  mind. 


"USES    OF    THE    ANALYSIS    OF   THE    IXTELLECT.  839 

The  purposes  to  be  served  by  a  scientific  discussion  of 
our  Intellectual  powers  are  these  : — 

1.  The  explanation  of  the  Laws  that  regulate  the  stream 
and  Succession  of  our  Thoughts  is  calculated  to  gratify  an 
enlightened  curiosity,  or  the  natural  desire  of  knowing  the 
causes  of  things.  Every  person  alive  to  the  pleasures  of 
knowledge  is  led,  by  this  prompting,  to  inquire  into  the  laws 
that  simplify  the  great  complications  of  the  world.  And 
there  is  no  department  where  this  desire  is  more  likely  to 
arise  than  in  the  ever  present  workings  of  the  mind  itself. 

2.  The  theory  of  the  intellectual  powers  affords  a  means 
of  representing  and  explaining  the  differences  of  Intellectual 
Character  in  human  beings.  Such  differences  must  refer  to 
one  or  other  of  the  fundamental  attributes  of  our  intelh- 
gence,  and  be  susceptible  of  classification  accordingly. 

3.  The  art  of  Education  must  be  grounded  upon  an 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  attribute  of  Eetentiveness.  We 
are  concerned  to  find  out  the  circumstances  that  favour,  and 
those  that  thwart,  the  process  of  mental  acquisition. 

What  Locke  termed  the  '  Conduct  of  the  Understand- 
ing,' meanjng  the  economical  and  effective  employment  of 
all  our  intellectual  forces,  includes  education,  and  some 
things  besides.  It  implies  the  methods  of  directing  and 
aiding  us  in  the  higher  operations,  as  Reasoning  and  Inven- 
tion. The  presumption  is  that  a  knowledge  of  the  tools 
that  we  work  with,  may  assist  us  in  using  them  to  the  best 
advantage. 

4.  The  theory  of  what  constitutes  Knowledge,  what  are 
the  limits  of  human  knowledge,  and  what  is  the  nature  of 
legitimate  Explanation,  must  needs  grow  out  of  the  investi- 
gation of  our  intellectual  powers.  It  was  to  ascertain 
exactly  what  man  is  competent  to  know,  that  Locke  applied 
himself  to  the  inquiries  that  are  the  subject  of  his  Essay, 
— the  publication  of  which  was  an  epoch  in  the  science 
of  mind. 

5.  There  are  certain  questions  of  vital  interest,  whose 
solution  turns  on  ascertaining  what  parts  of  our  knowledge 


340  THE    INTELLECT. 

are  primitive,  and  what  acquired.  It  is  a  recognized  portion 
of  the  science  of  mind  to  trace  to  their  earhest  origin  our 
ideas  of  Sx^ace,  Time,  Cause,  and  many  other  general  notions 
of  commanding  importance.  Scarcely  any  department  of 
Intellect  tries  more  severely  our  acquaintance  with  the  laws 
that  govern  the  progress  and  succession  of  our  thoughts. 


CHAPTEE    I. 

EETEXTIVENESS— LAW  OF   CONTIGUITY. 

1.  rpHIS  principle  is  the  basis  of  Memory,  Habit,  and  the 
J-  Acquired  Powers  in  general.  Writers  on  Mental 
Science  have  described  it  under  various  names.  Sir  William 
Hamilton  terms  it  the  law  of  '  Kediutegration ' ;  regarding  it 
as  the  principle  whereby  one  part  of  a  whole  brings  up  the 
other  parts,  as  when  the  first  words  of  a  quotation  recall  the 
remainder,  or  one  house  in  a  street  suggests  the  succeeding 
ones.  The  associating  links  called  Order  in  Time,  Order  in 
Place,  and  Cause  and  Effect,  are  all  included  under  it.  We 
might  also  name  it  the  law  of  Association  proper,  of  Adhe- 
sion, Mental  Adhesiveness,  or  Acquisition. 

The  following  is   a  general  statement  of  this  mode   of 
mental  reproduction. 

Actions,  Sensations,   and  States  of  Feeling,   occurring 
together  or  in  close  succession,  tend  to  grow  together 
or  cohere,  in  such  a  way  that,  when  any  one  of  them 
is  afterwards  presented  to  the  mind,  the  others  are  apt 
to  be  brought  up  in  idea. 
There  are  various  circumstances  or  conditions  that  regu- 
late and  modify  the  operation  of  this  principle,  so  as  to  render 
the  adhesive  growth  more  or  less  rapid  and  secure.    These  will 
be  best  brought  out  by  degrees  in  the  course  of  the  exposition. 
As  a  general  rule,  Eepetition  is  necessary  in  order  to  render 
coherent  in  the  mind  a  train  or  aggregate  of  images — as,  for 
example,  the  successive  aspects  of  a  panorama — with  a  suffi- 
cient degree  of  force  to  make  one  suggest  the  others  at  an 
after  period.     The  precise  degree  of  repetition  needed  de- 
pends on  a  variety  of  causes,  the  quality  of  the  individual 
mind  being  an  important  element. 


342  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

Eetentiveness  is  exemplified  throughout  the  present  chapter 
under  the  aspect  expressed  by  Contiguity  of  two  or  more  im- 
pressions. In  point  of  fact,  the  hnking  process  so  thoroughly 
pervades  our  acts  of  memory  that  we  regard  it  as  the  typical 
form  of  the  retentive  operation.  It  will  be  necessary  at  the 
proper  place  to  recognize  cases  where  an  impression  deemed 
single  is  confirmed,  deepened,  or  made  self-sustaining,  as  a  con- 
sequence of  repetition.  The  same  plastic  operation  of  the  brain 
must  be  regarded  to  be  at  work  here  also ;  and  the  same  con- 
ditions will  regulate  the  pace  of  the  acquirement.  In  point  of 
fact,  while  we  are  acquiring  mental  unions  of  coupled  impressions — 
as  names  and  things,  sequences  of  movements,  objects  and  feelings 
or  other  groupings, — -we  are,  at  the  same  time,  strengthening  or 
confirming  our  mental  hold  of  the  separate  members  of  the  united 
groups.  Hence,  everything  that  is  involved  in  the  Eetentive 
operation,  every  condition  of  its  working,  is  completely  exhausted 
in  the  full  illustration  of  the  Law"  of  Contiguity. 

In  opening  the  discussion  of  the  Intellectual  Powers  with  a 
statement  and  systematic  development  of  the  retentive  function 
of  the  mind,  we  assume  a  balance  of  convenience  as  against 
several  alternative  courses.  In  treating  of  the  sensations,  it 
was  necessary  to  presuppose  the  working  of  the  intellectual 
processes  strictly  so  called,  the  Eetentive  process  being  one.  An 
alternative  still  remains, — viz.,  to  defer  the  treatment  of  the  laws 
of  intellect  still  further,  in  order  to  deal  with  some  important 
products  that  follow  close  upon  sensation,  and  so  far  explicable 
with  only  a  tacit  assumption  of  these  intellectual  laws.  The 
name  '  Perception,  '  or  the  Perccjjt,  designates  a  large  class  of 
such  products ;  and  their  detailed  handling  is  an  important 
chapter  of  the  mind,  at  whatever  point  it  may  be  most  con- 
veniently introduced.  This  operation  is  essentially  a  mode  of 
Mental  Aggregation,  and  depends  upon  the  retentive  or  adhesive 
force,  as  bodied  forth  under  the  Law"  of  Contiguity.  It  stands 
intermediate  between  Sensation  proper  and  the  still  higher 
intellectual  product  of  Memory  or  Ideation  properly  so  called. 

A  further  question  of  arrangement  arises.  Can  the  perception 
products  be  conveniently  located  among  the  developments  of  the 
Law  of  Contiguity  without  interrupting  the  exposition   of  that 


MOVEMENTS.  343 

law  in  its  most  characteristic  workings?  For  all  practical 
purposes,  the  consideration  of  Contiguity  is  mainly  resolvable 
into  the  conditions  and  facilities  of  mental  acquisition,  or 
education,  in  which  it  is  the  potent  factor.  Doubtless,  there  are 
many  questions  of  its  operation  where  the  mere  fact  of  Aggrega- 
tion, and  the  sequence  of  successive  steps,  are  more  taken 
account  of  than  the  rapidity  or  economy  of  the  adhesive  growth. 
It  is  for  such  cases  that  the  bare  statement  of  the  law  may 
answer  all  purposes,  the  full  elucidation  being  postponed.  At 
the  same  time,  nothing  would  appear  to  be  lost  by  commencing 
at  once  with  the  specific  illustration  of  the  principle  ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  do  only  but  justice  to  its  enormous  sweep  in 
the  evolution  of  the  intellect  at  large  (see  Note  G). 

MOVEMENTS. 

2.  I  shall  commence  the  detailed  exposition  of  the  Law 
of  Contiguity  with  the  case  of  Muscular  Activity ;  including 
under  this  head  all  kinds  of  movements,  attitudes,  and 
efforts  of  resistance. 

Through  the  intellectual  property  of  adhesiveness  or 
plasticity,  as  expressed  by  this  principle  of  contiguous  asso- 
ciation, movements  can  be  linked  together  in  trains,  and 
made  to  succeed  each  other,  with  the  same  certainty  and 
invariable  sequence  that  we  find  in  the  instinctive  successions 
of  rhythmical  action,  already  discussed.  The  complicated 
evolutiotis  of  a  dance  come  to  flow  of  their  own  accord,  no 
less  than  the  movements  on  all  fours  of  the  newly-dropped 
lamb. 

We  may  begin  with  remarking  the  operation  of  the 
adhesive  principle  upon  the  Spontaneous  and  Instinctive 
actions  themselves.  These  actions  are  plainly  confirmed 
and  invigorated  by  repetition.  Although  many  creatures 
can  walk  as  soon  as  they  are  born,  they  walk  much  better 
after  a  little  practice.  Here,  however,  we  cannot  easily 
make  allow^ance  for  the  growth  of  the  parts  themselves, 
apart  from  the  effect  of  exercise.  The  muscles  of  the  limbs 
increase  in  size,  and  the  nerve  centres  that  stimulate  and 
sustain  the  rhythmical  movements  acquire  more  develop- 


344  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

ment,  through  time  alone.  By  practice,— that  is,  by  repetition, 
— the  infant  sacks  with  more  ease  and  vigour.  In  learning 
to  walk,  exercise  undoubtedly  concurs  with  the  primitive 
alternating  tendency  of  the  limbs.  The  muscles  of  the 
body  are  strengthened  by  growth  ;  this  growth  is  accelerated, 
if  they  are  regularly  exercised  within  limits ;  and  the  very 
same  is  likely  to  be  true  of  the  nerves  and  nerve  centres 
that  dictate  the  flow  and  alternation  of  muscular  move- 
ments. 

I  have  endeavoured  to  establish,  as  a  fact,  the  spontaneous 
commencement  of  all  the  actions  that  we  term  voluntary. 
The  limbs,  the  features,  the  eyes,  the  voice,  the  tongue,  the 
jaw,  the  head,  the  trunk,  etc.,  begin  to  move  inconsequence 
of  an  unprompted  flow  of  stimulus  from  the  nerve  centres. 
This  flow  will  be  sometimes  to  one  set  of  members,  and 
sometimes  to  another ;  so  that  the  organs  may  act  separately 
and  independently  under  the  influence  thus  imparted.  Now, 
such  spontaneous  movements  are,  without  doubt,  confirmed 
by  repetition,  and  are  thereby  made  to  recur  more  readily 
in  the  future.  Any  movement  struck  out  by  central  energy 
leaves,  it  may  be  supposed,  a  trace  behind :  a  less  amount 
of  nervous  impulse  will  be  required  for  its  renewal.  By  a 
spontaneous  stimulus,  the  hands  are  closed  ;  the  act  of 
closing  determines  a  current  or  bent  in  that  direction,  and 
the  next  exertion  is  so  much  the  easier.  By  one  prompting, 
the  arms  are  raised  and  lowered  alternately ;  by  another, 
they  are  moved  forwards  and  backwards ;  in  the  course 
of  a  few  repetitions,  adhesiveness  comes  in  aid  of  the  in- 
ward stimulus,  and  the  movements  grow  more  frequent 
and  more  decided.  Through  the  spontaneous  action  of  the 
centres,  the  eyes  a,re  moved  to  and  fro,  and  iteration  gives 
facility  to  the  exercise.  So,  the  voice  is  moved  variously  by 
an  impulse  from  within ;  and  each  movement  and  note  is 
made  easier  for  thenext  occasion  when  the  centres  discharge 
their  energy  by  that  channel.  The  tongue  is  an  organ  with 
many  movements,  and  all  voluntary  :  these  commence  of 
their  own   accord,   and  are  strengthened   and,  as  it  were, 


AGGREGATION    OF    MOVEMENTS.  345 

developed  by  repetition.  The  inclinations  and  sweep  of  the 
head,  and  of  the  trunk  generally,  are  of  the  same  class. 
The  iteration  of  all  these  various  movements  does  not  make 
them  voluntary  movements,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the 
expression ;  but  it  prepares  them  for  becoming  such  by  a 
future  and  distinct  acquisition.  It  makes  them  recur  more 
frequently  and  more  readily,  enhancing  the  spontaneous 
impulse  of  the  centres.  On  some  one  occasion,  the  voice 
sounds  a  high  note.  As  to  the  first  stimulus  of  the  vocal 
energy,  we  can  say  nothing  further  than  that,  with  all  the 
active  organs,  there  is  associated  a  nervous  battery  for  com- 
mencing their  movements.  After  an  interval,  the  same 
high  note  is  struck  by  a  like  discharge  from  the  proper 
centre.  AVhen  several  repetitions  have  occurred  in  this 
way,  a  facility  is  gained  ;  either  a  less  tension  of  the  centre 
will  originate  the  note,  or  it  will  be  better  sustained  when 
it  comes.  Thus  it  is  that  a  variety  of  detached  movements 
are  getting  themselves  prepared  for  subsequent  use. 

To  persons  that  have  not  reflected  on  the  very  great 
difficulty  and  labour  attending  the  growth  of  voluntary 
movements  in  infancy,  this  hypothesis  of  spontaneity  so 
much  dwelt  upon,  will  seem  uncalled  for  and  unlikely.  But 
I  shall  have  to  show,  at  a  later  stage,  how  impossible  it  is, 
without  a  supposition  of  this  kind,  to  account  for  the  com- 
mencement of  the  will. 

8.  "We  pass,  next,  to  the  acquisition  of  Aggregates  and 
Trains  of  Movements  as  exemplified  in  mechanical  opera- 
tions generally.  I  assume  the  case  of  an  individual  already 
able  to  command  the  limbs,  or  other  parts,  as  directed  by 
another  person,  or  by  an  example  set  for  imitation. 

Aggrefjation  or  Agglutination. — This  is  well  exemplified  in 
the  acquirement  of  walking.  A  certain  portion  of  the 
requisite  adjustments — viz.,  that  growing  out  of  the  alter- 
nation of  the  limbs — is  pure  instinct,  although  in  the  human 
subject  demanding  the  confirmation  of  exercise  or  practice. 
With  this  instinctive  portion  has  to  be  associated  all  the 
trunk  and  other  movements  necessary  for   preserving  the 


346  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

balance,  wliicli  do  not  seem  to  be  instinctively  given.  In 
each  situation  of  the  body  and  limbs  during  the  act  of  walk- 
ing, a  number  of  muscular  adjustments  concur  in  perfect 
fusion,  so  as  to  dispense  with  every  trace  of  voluntary 
attention,  which  is  the  test  of  perfect  acquisition. 

In  all  kinds  of  manual  education,  agglutinated  or  con- 
curring movements  are  involved  along  with  the  trains  in 
sequence.  In  firing  a  musket,  the  attitude  of  the  body,  arms, 
and  head  is  highly  complex,  and  yet  surely  determined  by 
a  single  act  of  volition  ;  while,  in  the  progress  of  the  acquire- 
ment, it  was  necessary  to  bring  the  different  adjustments 
into  play  by  a  volition  for  each.  Such  is  the  regular  course 
of  our  active  education,  and  such  the  criterion  of  its  complete- 
ness. 

The  attitudes  and  gestures  that  constitute  the  expression 
of  our  feelings  are  highly  complex,  both  as  concurring 
aggregates,  and  as  trains  or  successions.  A  certain  extent 
of  grouping  for  this  end  is  given  by  nature,  and  its  formation 
goes  far  back  in  the  history  of  sentient  beings.  The  educa- 
tion that  we  go  through  by  way  of  adding  refinement  to 
nature's  original,  is  so  much  added  to  the  primitive  agglu- 
tination ;  and  the  expression  of  an  emotion  by  a  graceful  or 
finished  actor  is  still  richer  in  concurring  motor  impulses. 
The  process  of  education  and  the  criterion  of  its  complete- 
ness can  be  described  in  the  terms  already  given  for  manual 
accomplishments. 

The  acquiring  of  articulate  Speech  extensively  involves 
the  same  agglutination.  Every  letter  stands  in  need  of  an 
adjustment  of  tongue,  jaws,  and  lips,  difficult  at  first,  but,  at 
last,  so  easy  that  we  do  not  know  that  we  are  performing  a 
complicated  act. 

Trains,  Successions,  or  Concatenations. — These  may  be 
exemplified  by  the  sequence  of  acts  in  eating, — necessarily 
one  of  our  earliest  acquirements. 

The  lifting  of  the  morsel  by  the  spoon  or  fork,  the  carry- 
ing of  it  to  the  mouth,  the  opening  of  the  mouth  at  the 
right    moment,    the    action    of   the   jaws    and   tongue, — all 


TRAINS    OF    MOVEMENTS.  347 

exhibit  a  succession  of  regulated  acts,  fixed  into  mechanical 
coherence  and  certainty  by  the  mere  fact  that  they  have 
been  made  to  succeed  each  other  a  great  number  of  times. 
The  accidental  biting  of  the  tongue  exemplifies  a  failure  or 
interruption  of  the  coherent  working  of  the  organs.  The 
action  of  carrying  the  hand  to  the  mouth  is  followed  by  the 
opening  of  the  jaws,  as  surely  as  the  two  alternate  acts 
concerned  in  breathing  give  birth  to  each  other. 

In  most  mechanical  successions,  the  feeling  of  the  effect 
produced  at  each  stage  is  a  link  in  the  transition  to  the 
next.  Thus,  in  writing,  the  sight  of  the  part  last  formed  is 
the  preamble  to  what  comes  next,  as  much  so  as  the  motion 
executed  ;  in  which  case,  the  sequence  is  not  Bne  of  pure 
motions — one  motion  bringing  on  the  next  in  the  habitual 
order.  This  mixture  of  sensations  and  motions  in  complex 
trains  will  form  a  separate  head  :  I  am  desirous,  at  the  pre- 
sent stage,  to  select  a  few  examples  of  actual  or  pure  move- 
ments linked  together,  without  any  other  element  being 
present.  As,  however,  the  guidance  by  feeling  is  neces- 
sary in  the  course  of  learning  any  mechanical  effort, 
the  fixing  of  movements  in  a  train,  independently  of  such 
guidance,  is  the  last  stage,  or  highest  perfection  of  mechanical 
acquirement.  Thus,  when  one  is  playing  on  a  pianoforte, 
and  attending  to  something  else  at  the  same  time,  the 
sequence  may  be  said  to  consist  of  pure  movements :  that  is 
to  say,  each  stroke  is  associated  with  another  definite  stroke 
or  touch,  through  the  whole  succession  of  the  piece.  Yet, 
even  in  this  case,  it  is  difficult  to  say  how  much  there  is  of 
a  kind  of  latent  sensation  in  the  fingers  and  the  ear,  acting 
along  with  the  association  of  pure  movements. 

A  deaf  person  speaking  must  depend  almost  entirely  on 
the  associated  sequence  of  movements ;  the  only  other 
assistance  is  the  muscular  feelings  themselves,  which  always 
count  for  something.  In  saying  over,  to  one's  self,  words 
committed  by  rote,  the  sequence  of  articulate  motions  is 
perfect.  One  word  uttered  brings  on  the  next,  independently 
of  either  hearing  or  the  consciousness  of  articulation.     This 


348  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

is  a  proof  of  the  very  great  aptitude  for  associated  move- 
ment belonging  to  the  vocal  organs  ;  hardly  any  other  part 
.of  the  body,  not  even  the  hands,  can  acquire  such  perfection 
of  unconscious  dexterity.  In  knitting,  there  is  probably  the 
same  sequence  of  movements,  acquired  after  thousands  of 
repetitions.  The  simpler  figures  of  dancing  can  be  gone 
through,  with  this  mechanical  and  unconscious  certainty, 
after  a  great  amount  of  practice  ;  but  the  docility  of  the 
lower  limbs  is  far  inferior  to  the  hands,  while  these  are 
second  to  the  voice. 

The  difficulty  of  forming  a  perfect  association  of  mere 
movements,  and  the  dependence  of  most  of  the  mechanical 
trains  upon  Ihe  sense  of  the  effect  produced,  are  curiously 
illustrated  in  paralyzed  sensibility.  Thus,  there  is  an  often- 
quoted  case  of  a  woman  that  could  not  hold  a  baby  in  her 
arms  except  by  keeping  her  eyes  fixed  upon  it.  She  had  no 
sense  of  weight  in  her  arms,  and  the  sustained  tension  of  the 
muscles  was  not  sufficiently  associated  with  the  taking  up  of 
the  child,  by  the  muscular  link  alone.  The  sight  of  the  eye 
was  able  to  supply  the  want  of  arm  sensibility,  while  both 
could  not  be  dispensed  with. 

A  more  familiar  example  of  the  same  fact  is  the  signing 
of  one's  name — an  operation  that,  by  repetition,  has  been 
brought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  automatic  or  mechanical 
sequence ;  and  yet,  when  we  make  our  signature  without 
seeing  it,  the  execution  is  verj-  faulty. 

It  is  the  linking  together  of  movements  so  perfectly  as 
to  make  them  succeed  one  another  without  consciousness, 
that  brings  the  acquisitions  into  comparison  with  the  in- 
stincts. Such  actions  are  sometimes  called  secondary- 
automatic. 

Although  very  few  of  the  cases  of  mechanical  acquire- 
ment in  general  can  belong  to  the  class  we  are  now  consider- 
ing, there  are  important  distinctions  of  human  character, 
founded  on  the  facility  of  acquiring  trains  of  movement,  so 
as  to  uphold  them  with  the  least  possible  help  from  the 
guiding   sensations   and    ideas.       The    trains    of   action    so 


CONDITIONS    OF    RETENTIVENESS.  349 

acquired  cost  the  smallest  amount  of  mental  fatigue  in  the 
performance  ;  they  may,  moreover,  go  on  while  the  mind  is 
employed  upon  other  things. 

4.  In  regard  to  the  conditions  that  regulate  the  pace  of 
our  various  acquisitions,  some  are  general,  others  are  special 
to  individual  kinds. 

The  general  conditions  are  these  : — 

I.  A  certain  amount  of  Continuance,  or  Repetition  of 
the  matter  to  be  learned,  is  requisite  ;  and  the  greater  the 
continuance,  or  the  more  frequent  the  repetition,  the  greater 
the  progress  of  the  learner.  Deficiency  in  the  other  con- 
ditions has  to  be  made  up  by  a  protracted  iteration. 

II.  The  Concentration  of  the  mind  is  an  important  con- 
dition. This  means,  physically,  that  the  forces  of  the  nervous 
system  are  strongly  engaged  upon  the  particular  act, — which 
is  possible  onW  by  keeping  the  attention  from  wandering  to 
other  things.  It  is  well  known  that  distraction  of  mind  is  a 
bar  to  acquirement. 

The  element  of  mental  Concentration  admits  of  various 
modes  of  wording  ;  and  it  is  desirable  to  fix  the  phenomenon 
itself  apart  from  any  one  exclusive  mode.  The  name  Con- 
sciousness, as  signifying  mental  life  and  activity  in  the  widest 
sense,  needs  to  be  tied  down  to  one  particular  application, 
in  order  to  serve  the  purpose  in  view.  The  word  '  Atten- 
tion '  is  by  some  preferred  as  the  leading  term  to  denote 
what  is  meant  ;  a  wider  meaning  than  its  ordinary  accepta- 
tion being  assigned  to  it.  What  is  wanted  in  the  case  is  to 
indicate  (1)  a  certain  degree  of  mental  excitement  or  con- 
sciousness, and  (2)  the  directing  of  this  upon  one  intellectual 
act,  to  the  exclusion  of  others.  The  process  is  easily  under- 
stood in  connexion  with  any  of  the  senses.  AVith  a  wide 
prospect  before  us,  the  eye  can  select  one  point  so  as  to 
throw  the  whole  of  the  visual  energy  upon  that  one  point ; 
while  the  intensity  of  gaze  may  be  such  that  the  other 
portions  of  the  scene,  although  actually  inscribed  on  the 
retina,  are  all  but  unconscious.  This  is  Concentration  in 
its  most   typical   and  generally   understood   form.       There 


350  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

maybe  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  excitement  on  the  whole; 
but  the  point  is  that  the  entire  benefit  should  be  given 
to  a  narrow  and  select  portion  of  the  field  of  view.  Under 
all  the  applications  of  the  term  Concentration,  these  two 
circumstances, — viz.,  amount  of  excitement  and  special 
direction, — are  what  make  up  its  meaning. 

When  the  different  sources  or  causes  of  mental  ex- 
citement are  reviewed,  we  find  a  very  great  difference,  not 
merely  in  respect  to  the  amount  produced,  but  also  in  the 
element  of  special  direction  towards  a  given  subject.  We 
may  contract  a  considerable  intensity  of  consciousness, 
with  no  direction  at  all,  or  with  a  direction  away  from 
what  we  more  particularly  wish.  Herein  lies  the  character- 
istic distinctions  of  pleasure  and  pain  as  motives  to  the 
requisite  concentration. 

The  name  Activity  is  especially  adduced  in  reference 
to  concentration  or  attention  of  mind,  while  Passivity  is 
connected  with  the  absence  of  that  degree  of  consciousness 
that  would  be  called  attention  or  concentration.  Yet, 
Passivity  is  not  necessarily  unconscious :  it  is  merely  a  low 
degree  of  conscious  excitement,  in  which  no  great  impression 
is  made  by  things  that  are  actually  presented  to  the  view. 
In  moving  along  a  road,  we  cannot  help  receiving  sensible 
impressions  ;  but  the  tone  or  tension  of  the  mind  may  be  so 
faint  or  feeble  that  these  do  not  stamp  themselves  on  the 
memory.  In  point  of  fact,  there  is  a  scale  of  degree  from 
the  zero  of  conscious  impression  to  the  highest  possible 
pitch  of  excitement,  or  intellectual  activity.  In  strictness, 
attention,  activity,  concentration,  all  point  to  one  and  the 
same  circumstance.  All  are  equally  applicable  to  designating 
it,  seeing  that  all  are  indifferently  emplo5^ed  for  the  end  in 
view. 

The  area  of  attention  is  said  to  be  a  varpng  quantity, 
while  the  intensity  is  necessarily  less  as  the  area  is  greater. 
There  is,  however,  a  qualification  to  be  given  in  this  case, 
inasmuch  as  the  purpose  of  embracing  a  large  area  may 
be  to  obtain  a  comprehensive  view  of  some  grand  whole, 


MOTIVES   TO    CONCENTRATION.  351 

which  is  as  intently  perceived  as  a  smaller  or  more  minute 
point  taken  in  finer  detail. 

Properly  speaking,  attention  or  concentration  is  the 
employment  of  the  Will  in  the  sphere  of  the  Intellect. 
It  is  the  stimulating  adjunct  that  renders  the  intellectual 
processes  effective  for  their  purpose  ;  and,  being  itself  de- 
pendent upon  the  feelings,  it  illustrates  the  necessity  for 
the  united  action  of  all  the  forces  of  the  mind  in  the  sphere 
of  intellectual  production. 

The  greatest  of  all  motives  to  concentration  is  a  present 
enjoyment  of  the  work  in  hand.  Any  exercise  possessing  a 
special  charm  detains  us  by  immediate  attraction  ;  every- 
thing else  is  neglected,  so  long  as  the  fascination  lasts. 
This  is  the  inherent  power  of  the  will  in  its  immediate  and 
most  efficient  manifestation — a  present  pleasure  furthering 
a  present  action.  It  explains  the  great  influence  of  what 
is  called  the  Taste  for  a  special  pursuit.  The  taste  or 
fascination  for  music,  for  science,  for  business, — ^keeps  the 
mind  of  the  learner  exclusively  bent  upon  the  subject  ;  and 
the  pace  of  acquisition  is  proportionally  rapid. 

Next  to  present  enjoyment,  is  associated  or  future  enjoy- 
ment ;  as  when  we  devote  ourselves  to  something  unin- 
teresting or  painful  in  itself,  but  calculated  to  bring  future 
gratification.  This  is,  generally  speaking,  a  less  urgent 
stimulation,  as  being  the  influence  of  pleasure  existing  only 
in  idea.  There  may,  however,  be  all  degrees  of  intensity  of 
the  motive,  according  to  the  strength  of  the  ideal  represen- 
tation of  the  pleasure  to  come.  It  is  on  this  stimulation 
that  we  go  through  the  dry  studies  necessary  to  a  lucrative 
profession  or  a  favourite  object  of  pursuit.  The  young  are 
insufliciently  actuated  by  prospective  pleasure,  owing  to 
their  inferior  ideal  hold  of  it ;  and  are,  therefore,  not  power- 
fully moved  in  this  way. 

A  third  form  of  concentration  is  when  present  pain  is 
made  use  of  to  deter  and  withdraw  the  mind  from  causes  of 
distraction,  or  matters  having  an  intrinsically  superior  charm. 
This  is  the  final  resort  in   securing  the  attention    of   the 


352  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

volatile  learner.  It  is  an  inferior  motive,  on  the  score  of 
economy,  but  cannot  be  dispensed  with  in  early  training. 
By  an  artificial  appliance,  the  subject  m  hand  is  made  com- 
'parcUively  the  least  unattractive.  So  with  the  use  of  future 
pains  ;  the  same  allowance  being  made  for  the  difference  in 
their  character,  as  for  pleasures  existing  only  in  prospect. 

The  influence  of  Neutral  Excitement  may  also  be  taken 
into  account,  as  being  a  power  of  concentration  provided  it 
can  be  properly  directed.  This  happens  when  the  subject  of 
consideration  or  attention  is  itself  the  origin  of  the  excitement. 
Anything  that  strikes  us  with  surprise,  irrespective  of  either 
pleasure  or  pain,  will  receive  the  benefit  of  the  excitement 
produced  in  the  form  of  effective  concentration.  The  least 
productive  of  all  the  kinds  of  conscious  intensity  is  mere 
vague  excitement,  from  whatever  cause.  In  the  absence  of 
direction  upon  anything  in  particular,  it  is  pure  waste  as  far 
as  concerns  intellectual  results.  The  case  is  still  worse  if  it 
should  turn  out  to  be  unhealthy  or  morbid  excitement,  in 
which  no  permanent  linkings  of  thought  can  be  fused. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  area  of  concentration  is  apt  to 
be  somewhat  larger  than  the  stimulating  impression  ;  we 
cannot  always  keep  the  vision  or  the  hearing  to  the  exact 
spot  where  the  influence  is  located.  Hence,  our  memory  of 
some  interesting  scene  or  event  often  involves  collaterals  in 
close  proximity  with  the  exciting  cause.  The  mind,  being 
raised  to  a  high  pitch  of  intense  consciousness,  will  seize  hold 
of  whatever  crosses  the  view  at  the  particular  moment  ;  and 
matters  irrelevant  to  the  main  stimulus  will  obtain  a  share 
of  the  resulting  cohesive  force  of  retention.  This  fact  is  of 
sufficient  importance  to  constitute  a  subsidiary  law  of  the 
adhesive  property. 

It  is  not  uncommon,  in  stating  the  general  conditions  of  Ee- 
tentiveness,  or  memory,  to  specify  the  vividness  or  intensity  of  an 
impression  :  thus,  we  readily  remember  such  effects  as  an  in- 
tense odour,  a  speech  uttered  with  vehemence,  a  conflagration. 
This,  however,  resolves  itself  into  the  concentration  of  mental  and 
nervous  force,  due  to  the  emotional  excitement.     Apart  from  the 


GENERAL  POWER  OF  RETEXTIVENESS.         353 

feelings,  an  idea  may  be  more  or  less  distinct  and  clear,  but  is  not 
properly  more  or  less  intense.  If  an  inscription  is  legible  with 
ease,  it  is  everything  that  the  intellect  demands  ;  the  adventi- 
tious aid  of  glaring  characters,  as  when,  at  a  public  illumination, 
a  sentiment  is  written  in  gas  jets,  is  a  species  of  excitement,  se- 
curing an  inoriinabt!  amount  of  attention  or  concentration  of  mind. 
If  we  compare  an  object  sharply  defined  with  another  whose 
lineaments  are  faded  and  obscure,  there  is  a  wide  difference  in 
the  hold  that  the  two  would  severally  take  on  the  memoiy  ;  but 
such  impressions  differ  in  kind,  and  not  simply  in  degree.  The 
names  '  vivid  '  and  '  intense '  are  scarcely  applicable  except  by  a 
figure.  Without  a  decisive  difference  or  contrast,  the  mind  is 
not  impressed  at  all ;  everything  that  favours  the  contrast  favours 
discrimination,  and  also  depth  of  impression.  All  this,  however, 
is  presupposed  as  a  fact  or  property  of  the  Discnminating  function 
of  intellect,  and  is  not  to  be  repeated  as  appertaining  to  the  Re- 
tentjce  function. 

III.  There  appears  to  be,  specific  to  each  individual,  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  General  Retentiveness,  or  a  certain  aptitude 
for  acquirement  generally.  We  find  a  great  inequality  in 
the  progress  of  learners  placed  almost  exactly  in  the  same 
circumstances.  Sometimes  the  difference  refers  only  to 
single  departments,  as  mechanical  art,  music,  or  language  : 
it  is  then  referable  to  special  and  local  endovv^ments,  as 
muscular  sensibility,  the  musical  ear,  and  so  forth.  Often, 
however,  the  superiority  of  individuals  is  seen  in  acquire- 
ment as  a  whole,  in  which  form  it  is  better  regarded  as  a 
General  power  of  Eetentiveness. 

5.  We  shall  advert,  as  we  proceed,  to  the  modif}dng  cir- 
cumstances of  a  local  kind  peculiar  to  each  class  of  acquisi- 
tions. As  respects  the  present  class.  Movements,  the  special 
conditions  seem  to  be  as  follows  : — 

(1)  Bodily  Strength,  or  mere  muscular  vigour,  must  be 
regarded  as  favouring  acquisition.  Not  only  is  it  an  indi- 
cation of  a  large  share  of  vitality  in  the  muscles,  which  is 
likely  to  attend  their  acquired  aptitudes  ;  it  also  qualifies 
for  enduring,  without  fatigue,  a  great  amount  of  continuance 
or  practice  of  the  operations  required. 

23 


^54  RETENTIVENESS— LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

(2)  Distinct  from  mere  muscular  power  is  Spontaneity, 
or  the  active  temperament ;  meaning  the  natural  proneness 
to  copious  muscular  activity.  This  must  be  regarded  as  a 
property,  not  of  the  muscular  tissue,  but  of  the  nerve  centres 
on  the  active  side  of  the  brain.  Hence,  there  is  a  likelihood, 
if  not  a  certainty,  that  the  endowment  is  accompanied  with 
a  greater  facility  in  the  association  of  movements.  Observa- 
tion accords  with  the  view.  It  is  usually  men  of  abounding 
natural  activity  that  make  adroit  mechanics,  good  sports- 
men, and  able  combatants. 

(3)  Of  still  greater  importance  is  Muscular  Delicacy,  or 
Discrimination, — which  is  not  necessarily  involved  in  either 
of  the  foregoing  heads,  although  more  allied  to  the  second. 
The  power  of  discriminating  nice  shades  of  muscular  move- 
ment is  at  the  foundation  of  muscular  expertness  in  every 
mode.  We  have  abundant  proof  that,  wherever  delicacy  of 
discrimination  exists,  there  will  be  found  a  special  retentive- 
ness  of  that  class  of  impressions.  The  physical  groundwork 
of  the  property  is  the  abundance  of  the  nerve  elements — 
fibres  and  corpuscles  ;  out  of  which  also  must  spring  the 
capacity  for  varied  groupings  and  fixed  associations. 

Physical  vigour  m  general,  and  those  modes  of  it  that  are 
the  counterparts  of  mental  vigour  in  particular,  must  be  reck- 
oned among  the  conditions  of  Eetentiveness.  Other  things 
being  the  same,  acquisition  is  most  rapid  in  health,  and  in  the 
nourished  and  fresh  condition  of  all  the  organs.  "When  the 
forces  of  the  system  run  strongly  to  the  nervous  system 
generally,  there  is  a  natural  exuberance  of  all  the  mental  mani- 
festations ;  and  energy  of  mind  is  then  compatible  with  much 
bodily  feebleness,  yet  not  with  any  circumstances  that  restrict 
the  nourishment  of  the  brain. 

IDEAL  FEELINGS  OF  MOVEIMENT. 

6.  The  continuance  and  revival  of  feelings  of  movement 
without  movement  itself — that  is,  ideal  feelings,  as  opposed 
to  the  feelings  accompanying  actual  movement — are  a  new 
and  distinct  case  of  the  associating  principle ;  a  case,  too, 


THE    SEAT   OR   EMBODIMENT    OF   IDEAS.  355 

of  great   interest,    as    introducing    us    into   the    sphere   of 
Thought. 

This  transition  from  the  external  to  the  internal,  from 
the  Eeality  to  the  Idea — the  greatest  leap  that  can  be  taken 
within  the  compass  of  our  subject, — needs,  in  accordance 
with  the  principle  of  our  whole  exposition,  to  be  prefaced 
by  a  consideration  of  the  question:  AVhat  is  the  probable 
seat,  or  local  embodiment,  of  a  sensation,  or  a  mechanical 
feeling,  when  persisting  after  the  fact,  or  when  revived  with- 
out the  reality '?  The  discussion  of  this  question  will  in- 
terrupt, for  a  few  pages,  the  exemplification  of  the  law  of 
Contiguous  adhesiveness. 

7.  All  the  Muscular  feelings  can  be  sustained  for  some 
time  after  the  phj^sical  cause  has  ceased.  All  the  sensations 
of  the  senses  can  be  sustained  in  like  manner,  some  more 
and  some  less  easily  ;  and  they  can  afterwards  be  revived 
as  ideas  by  means  of  the  associating  forces.  AVhat,  then, 
is  the  mode  of  existence  of  those  feelings,  bereft  of  their 
outward  support  and  first  cause  ?  In  what  particular  form 
do  they  possess  or  occupy  the  mental  aud  cerebral  system  ? 
This  question  admits  of  two  different  answers  or  assumptions, 
— one  old  and  widely  prevalent,  the  other  new  but  better 
founded.  The  old  notion  supposes  that  the  brain  is  a  sort 
of  receptacle  of  the  impressions  of  sense,  where  they  lie 
stored  up  in  a  chamber  quite  apart  from  the  recipient 
apparatus,  to  be  manifested  again  to  the  mind  when  the 
occasion  calls.  But  the  modern  theory  of  the  brain,  already 
developed  (see  Introduction),  suggests  a  totally  different 
view.  We  have  seen  that  the  brain  is  only  one  part  of  the 
course  of  nervous  action  ;  that  the  completed  circles  take  in 
the  nerves  and  the  extremities  of  the  body ;  that  nervous 
action  supposes  currents  passing  through  these  completed 
circles,  or  to  and  fro  between  the  central  ganglia  and  the 
organs  of  sense  aud  motion  ;  and  that,  short  of  a  completed 
course,  no  nervous  action  exists.  The  idea  of  a  cerebral 
closet  shut  off,  is  quite  incompatible  with  the  real  manner 
of  the  working  of  nerve.     Since,  then,  a  sensation,  in  the 


356  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

first  instance,  diffuses  nerve  currents  through  the  interior  of 
the  brain  outwards  to  the  organs  of  expression  and   move- 
ment,— the  persistence  of  that  sensation,  after  the  outward 
exciting  cause  is  withdrawn,  can  be  but   a  continuance  of 
the  same  diffusive  currents,  perhaps  less  intense,  but  not 
otherwise  different.     The  shock  remaining  in  the  ear  and  in 
the  brain,  after  the   sound  of  thunder,  must  pass   through 
the  same  circles,  and  operate  in  the  same  way,  as  during  the 
actual  sound.     We  can  have  no  reason  for  believing  that, 
in  this  self-sustaining  condition,  the  impression  changes  its 
seat,  or  passes  into  some  new  circles  that  have  the  special 
property   of  retaining   it.     Every   part    actuated  after   the 
shock  must  have  been    actuated    hy  the   shock,  only   more 
powerfully.      With  this  single  difference  of  intensity,  the 
mode  of  existence  of  a  sensation  persisting  after  the  fact 
is  essentially  the  same  as  its  mode  of  existence  during  the 
fact :  the  same  organs  are  occupied,  the  same  current  action 
goes  on.     We  see  in  the  continuance  of  the  attitude  and  ex- 
pression the  identical  outward  appearances,  and  these  ap- 
pearances are  produced  by  the  course  of  power  being  still  by 
the  same  routes.     Moreover,  the  identity  in  the  mode  of 
consciousness  implies  that  the  manner  of  action  within  the 
brain  is  unaltered. 

8.  Now,  if  this  be  the  case  with  impressions  persisting 
when  the  cause  has  ceased,  what  view  are  we  to  adopt 
concerning  impressions  reproduced  by  mental  causes  alone, 
or  without  the  aid  of  the  original,  as  in  ordinary  recollec- 
tion ?  What  is  the  manner  of  occupation  of  the  brain  with 
a  resuscitated  feeling  of  resistance,  a  smell,  or  a  sound? 
There  is  only  one  answer  that  seems  admissible.  The  renev:ed 
feeling  occupies  the  very  same  parts,  and  in  the  same  manner,  as 
the  original  feeling,  and  no  other  parts,  nor  in  any  other  assignable 
manner.  I  believe  that  if  our  present  knowledge  of  the 
brain  had  been  present  to  the  earliest  speculators,  this  is  the 
only  hypothesis  that  would  have  occurred  to  them.  For, 
where  should  a  past  feeling  be  re-embodied,  if  not  in  the  same 
organs  as  the  feeling  when  present  ?     It  is  only  in  this  way 


EMBODIMENT   OF    MUSCULAR   IDEAS.  357 

that  its  identity  can  be  preserved  ;  a  feeling  differently  em- 
bodied would  be  a  different  feeling. 

It  is  possible,  however,  to  adduce  facts  that  set  in  a  still 
clearer  light  this  re-occupation  of  the  sentient  circles  with 
recovered  impressions  and  feelings.  Take,  first,  the  memory 
of  feelings  of  energetic  action, — as  when  reviving  the  exploits 
or  exertions  of  yesterday.  It  is  a  notorious  circumstance 
that,  if  there  be  much  excitement  attending  the  recollection 
of  these,  we  can  only  with  great  difficulty  prevent  ourselves 
from  getting  up  to  repeat  them.  The  rush  of  feeling  has 
gone  on  the  old  tracks,  and  seizes  the  same  muscles ;  and 
would  go  the  length  of  actually  stimulating  them  to  a  repeti- 
tion. A  child  cannot  describe  anything  that  it  was  engaged 
in,  without  acting  it  out  to  the  full  length  that  the  circum- 
stances will  permit.  A  dog  dreaming  sets  his  feet  going, 
and  sometimes  barks.  The  suppression  of  the  full  stage  of 
perfect  resuscitation  needs  an  express  effort  of  volition,  and 
we  are  often  even  incapable  of  the  effort.  If  the  recollection 
were  carried  on  in  a  separate  chamber  of  the  brain,  it  would 
not  press  in  this  way  upon  the  bodily  organs  engaged  in  the 
actual  transaction.  The  fact  can  only  be,  that  the  train  of 
feeling  is  reinstated  in  the  same  parts  as  first  vibrated  to 
the  original  stimulus,  and  our  recollection  is  merely  a  repeti- 
tion that  does  not  usually  go  quite  the  same  length,  or  stops 
short  of  actual  execution.  No  better  example  could  be  fur- 
nished than  the  vocal  recollections.  When  we  recall  the 
impression  of  a  word  or  a  sentence,  if  we  do  not  speak  it  out, 
we  feel  the  twitter  of  the  organs  just  about  to  come  to  that 
point.  The  articulating  parts — the  larynx,  the  tongue,  the 
lips — are  all  sensibly  excited  ;  a  suppressed  ctrticulafAon  is  in 
fact  the  material  of  our  recollection,  the  intellectual  mani- 
festation, the  idea  of  speech.  Some  persons  of  weak  or  in- 
continent nerves  can  hardly  think  without  muttering — they 
talk  to  themselves.  The  excitement  of  the  parts  may  be 
very  slight — it  may  not  go  the  length  of  perceptibly  affecting 
the  muscles ;  but  in  the  brain  and  communicating  nerves  it 
still  passes  the  same  rounds,  however  enfeebled  in   degree. 


358  RBTENTTVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

The  purposes  of  intellect  can  be  served,  even  after  this  ex- 
treme enfeeblement  of  the  currents,  but  their  nature  and 
their  seat  have  not  changed.  They  have  not  abandoned  the 
walks  of  living  articulation  because  they  no  longer  speak  out 
fully ;  they  have  not  taken  refuge  in  new  chambers  of  the 
brain.  We  feel  at  any  moment  how  easy  it  is  to  convert  the 
ideas  into  utterances ;  it  is  only  like  making  a  whisper 
audible, — the  mere  addition  of  mechanical  power.  The  ten- 
dency of  the  idea  of  an  action  to  produce  the  fact,  shows 
that  the  idea  is  already  the  fact  in  a  weaker  form.  Thinking 
is  restrained  speaking  or  acting.  If  the  disposition  to  yawn- 
ing exists,  the  idea,  anywise  brought  up,  will  excite  the 
action.  The  suppressive  effort  usually  accompanying  ideas 
of  action,  which  renders  them  ideas  and  not  movements,  is 
too  feeble  in  this  case,  and  the  idea  is,  therefore,  a  repetition 
to  the  full  of  the  reality. 

9.  Although  at  present  engaged  in  preparing  the  way  for 
the  association  of  muscular  feelings,  yet,  as  the  doctrine  in  hand 
is  general  for  all  states  of  mind,  I  must  add  some  parallel 
instances  from  passive  sensation.  Miiller  has  furnished 
several  in  point.  He  says  : — '  The  mere  idea  of  a  nauseous 
taste  can  excite  the  sensation  even  to  the  production  of 
vomiting.  The  quality  of  the  sensation  is  the  property  of 
ihe  sensitive  nerve,  which  is  here  excited  without  any  ex- 
ternal agent.  The  mere  sight  of  a  person  about  to  pass  a 
sharp  instrument  over  glass  or  porcelain  is  sufficient,  as 
Darwin  remarks,  to  excite  the  well-known  sensation  in  the 
teeth.  The  mere  thinking  of  objects  capable,  when  present, 
of  exciting  shuddering,  is  sufficient  to  produce  that  sensation 
on  the  surface  in  persons  of  irritable  habits.  The  special 
properties  of  the  higher  senses,  sight  and  hearing,  are  rarely 
thus  excited  in  the  waking  state,  but  very  frequently  in  sleep 
and  dreams ;  for,  that  the  images  of  dreams  are  really  seen 
(under  opium,  images  are  actually  seen),  and  not  merely 
present  in  the  imagination,  any  one  may  satisfy  himself  in 
his  own  person,  by  accustoming  himself  regularly  to  open 
his  eyes  when  waking  after  a  dream.     The  images  seen  in 


TENDENCY  OF  AN  IDEA  TO  BECOME  EEALITY.     359" 

the  dream  are  then  sometimes  still  visible,  and  can  be  ob- 
served to  disappear  gradually.  This  was  remarked  by 
Spinoza,  and  I  have  convinced  myself  of  it  in  my  own 
person'  (p.  945).  As  another  striking  example,  there  may  be 
adduced  the  fact  that  the  sight  of  food  brings  about  the  flow 
of  saliva  in  a  hungry  animal.  The  physiologist  obtains 
saliva  for  experimental  purposes,  by  presenting  a  savoury 
morsel  to  the  view  of  a  dog.  The  sight  or  thought  of  the 
infant  induces  the  flow  of  milk  in  the  mother. 

These,  and  other  cases  that  might  be  quoted,  clearly 
confirm  what  has  been  said,  as  to  the  return  of  the  nervous 
currents,  exactly  on  their  own  tracks,  in  revived  sensation. 
We  see  that,  when  the  revival  is  energetic,  it  goes  the  length 
of  exciting  even  the  surface  of  sense  itself  by  a  sort  of  back- 
movement.  We  might  think  of  a  blow  on  the  hand,  until 
the  skin  were  actually  irritated  and  inflamed.  The  attention 
very  much  directed  to  any  part  of  the  body,  as  the  great  toe, 
for  instance,  is  apt  to  produce  a  distinct  feeling  in  the  part, — 
which  we  account  for  only  by  supposing  a  revived  nerve 
current  to  flow  there,  making  a  sort  of  false  sensation, — an 
influence  from  within  mimicking  the  influences  from  without 
in  sensation  proper.  This  whole  subject  has  been  fully 
developed  in  the  numerous  experiments  under  the  name  of 
Hypnotism.  Mr.  Braid,  of  Manchester,  was  among  the 
first  to  give  it  prominence. 

10.  The  emotions  and  passions  distinct  from,  but  often 
accompanying  sensations,  are  likewise  similarly  manifested 
in  the  reahty  and  m  the  idea.  Anger  takes  exactly  the 
same  course  in  the  system,  whether  with  a  person  present, 
or  with  some  one  remembered  or  imagined.  Nobody  ever 
supposes  in  this  case  that  the  ideal  passion  is  in  any  way 
difierent  from  the  actual,  or  has  any  other  course  or  seat  in 
the  brain.  So  with  affection,  egotism,  fear,  or  any  other 
sentiment  or  passion.  In  like  manner,  the  remembrance 
of  being  angry,  or  puffed  up,  or  terrified,  will  be  a  resuscita- 
tion of  the  identical  state,  and  will  actuate  the  same  part, 
although  the  centrifugal  wave  may  not  be  strong  enough  to 


360  RETENTIVENBSS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

agitate  the  surface  as  strongly  as  the  original  did.  The 
recollection  of  the  intenser  feelings  is  necessarily  weaker 
than  the  reality  ;  but,  of  some  of  the  less  agitating  sensations 
and  feelings  manifested  in  action,  the  recollection  may  be 
quite  equal  to  the  reality.  We  can  better  afford  the  expen- 
diture necessary  for  reviving  mild  and  gentle  emotions. 

11.  The  tendency  of  an  idea  to  become  the  reality  is  a 
distinct  source  of  active  impulses  in  the  mind.  Our  chief 
active  faculty  is  expressed  by  A¥ill,  or  Volition,  whose 
nature  it  is  to  urge  us  frora  pain  or  to  pleasure.  But  the 
disposition  to  proceed  from  a  mere  recollection,  imagination, 
or  idea,  to  the  action  that  it  represents, — not  merely  to 
think  an  act,  but  to  do  it, — is  also  a  determining  principle 
of  human  conduct,  and  often  sets  itself  in  opposition  to  the 
regular  action  of  the  will,  as  above  defined.  For  the  most 
part,  the  tendency  is  kept  in  check  ;  in  ordinary  circumstances, 
indeed,  it  does  not  manifest  itself  with  any  great  energy, 
so  that  we  may  omit  it  from  our  reckoning  of  a  man's 
motives.  There  are,  however,  circumstances  that  bring  it 
forward  as  a  considerable,  and  even  preponderating,  influ- 
ence in  individual  conduct.  The  extreme  illustration  is 
seen  under  the  mesmeric  sleep,  which  has  this  curious  effect, 
among  others,  that  the  patient  is  open  to  the  reception  of 
ideas  suggested  by  another  person,  while  the  senses  and  the 
naind  are  insusceptible  to  the  external  situation  generally, 
and  are,  to  that  extent,  asleep  or  unconscious.  The  wakeful- 
ness to  our  actual  environment  at  each  moment  is  necessarily 
the  foremost  circumstance  in  regulating  our  actions ;  the 
influence  of  our  ideas  is  usually  subordinated  to  the  influence 
of  present  realities.  In  sleep,  the  mind  is  dead  to  reality, 
and  more  or  less  awake  to  the  current  of  ideas  ;  and  in 
somnambulism  and  mesmeric  sleep,  and,  to  a  less  extent,  in 
ordinary  dreams,  we  act  our  ideas  out  to  the  full,  the  usual 
restraining  power  being  dormant. 

In  waking  moments,  the  general  rule  is  that  ideas  do  not 
act  themselves  out ;  their  urgency  is  so  small  as  to  be  in 
complete  subjection  to  the  will,  operating  under  its  ordinary 


FIXED   IDEAS   THWARTING   THE    WILL.  861 

motives.  But  there  are  times  when  an  idea  possesses  the 
mind  so  forcibly  as  to  act  itself  out  in  opposition  to  the  will, 
and,  therefore,  in  opposition  to  those  interests  that  the  will 
should  side  with — the  deliverance  from  pain  and  the  further- 
ance of  pleasure.  This  forcible  possession  is  generally  the 
consequence  of  great  excitement  accompanying  an  idea,  or 
its  taking  a  more  than  usual  hold  of  the  mind,  whereby 
it  does  not  pass  away  with  the  intellectual  currents,  but 
remains  and  predominates  over  every  other  thought  pressing 
for  admittance. 

l'2i.  The  domination  of  an  idea  is  best  seen  in  the  work- 
ings of  Fear.  When  any  object  causes  fright,  the  idea  of 
that  object  is  stamped  on  the  mind  with  an  intensity  corre- 
sponding to  the  degree  of  the  fright.  The  actions  of  the 
individual  are  in  conformity  to  this  idea,  and  not  to  his 
proper  volitions.  A  mother  is  in  a  state  of  panic  regarding 
a  supposed  danger  to  her  child :  she  is  no  longer  capable  of 
acting  for  the  best ;  the  one  exaggerated  idea  governs  her 
whole  conduct.  The  force  that  moves  her  is  not  volition  ;  it 
resides  in  the  circles  of  mere  intellect,  inflamed  into  undue 
excitement  on  one  idea.  The  healthy  and  regular  action  of 
the  will,  aiming  at  the  suppression  of  pain  and  the  procuring 
of  pleasure,  would  work  for  subduing  the  state  of  panic,  so 
as  to  leave  the  mind  in  a  cool  and  collected  condition,  able 
to  estimate  the  danger  at  its  exact  amount,  and  with  refer- 
ence to  all  other  interests.  But  the  passion  of  fear  is  too 
much  for  the  will.  The  idea  rules  the  situation  like  a 
despot. 

The  principle  is  also  illustrated  by  the  predominance  of 
purely  painful  ideas,  even  although  not  causing  fright.  The 
mere  fact  that  an  idea  is  disagreeable  would  suggest  to  the 
will  to  banish  it,  and  we  often  succeed  in  banishing  the 
thought  of  an  object  that  pains  us  ;  but,  sometimes,  the 
intensity  of  the  pain  is  such  as  to  stamp  it  on  the  mind,  and 
we  cannot  help  acting  it  out,  even  to  our  own  discomfort. 
Disgusts  often  exercise  this  unbidden  ascendancy. 

The  fascination  of  a  precipice  is  a  familiar  and  pertinent 


362  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

example  of  the  same  tendency.  The  idea  of  a  faUing  body 
is  so  intensely  suggested,  that  an  effort  of  volition  is  neces- 
sary to  keep  the  spectator  from  acting  it  out  in  his  own 
person. 

It  is  often  remarked  that  a  painful  recollection  will  haunt 
a  person  through  life.  This  is  an  undue  susceptibility  to  the 
influence  of  an  idea,  a  morbid  submission  of  the  intellect  to 
the  will.  Insanity  is"  the  culmination  of  this  peculiarity. 
The  insane  are  very  generally  the  victims  of  a  diseased  im- 
pression. Occasionally,  this  may  give  them  pleasure,  as 
when  the  idea  takes  the  form  of  exorbitant  vanity  ;  more 
often,  however,  the  idea  is  morbid  and  gloomy,  and  still 
controls  the  actions. 

13.  Tlie  working  of  Sympathy,  Fellow-feeling,  Pity, 
Compassion,  Disinterestedness  is  an  exception  to  the  ordin- 
ary action  of  the  will,  which  is  to  attain  our  own  pleasures 
and  remove  our  own  pains.  Self-conservation  is  the  proper 
definition  of  AVill.  But,  by  Sympathy  proper,  we  are  able  to 
conceive  the  pains  of  others;  and,  in  so  doing,  we  are  impelled 
to  endeavour  to  alleviate  them  as  if  they  were  our  own. 
This  has  been  supposed  to  be  a  case  of  the  working  of  the 
fixed  idea,  in  the  interests  of  fellow-beings  into  whose  feel- 
ings we  are  enabled  to  enter  through  the  medium  of  personal 
experience.  The  weak  point  in  the  explanation,  however,  is 
that  a  mere  intellectual  idea  would  be  insufficient,  in  most 
circumstances,  as  a  mo\dng  power  against  our  own  personal 
interests  strongly  entertained.  Accordingly,  it  is  a  safer  and 
more  likely  assumption  that,  in  the  operation  of  Sympathy, 
there  is  a  habit  of  sociability,  engendered  by  long  hereditary 
usage,  of  acting  gregariously  with  our  fellows.  This  would 
supply  the  missinir  element  of  motive  power,  which  alone 
seems  wanting  in  the  explanation  furnished  by  the  fixed 
idea. 

14.  Much  of  the  ambition  and  the  aspirations  of  human 
beings  belongs  rather  to  the  sphere  of  fixed  ideas,  than  to 
the  sphere  of  volition  prompted  by  pleasures.  It  is  true 
that  the  things  we  aspire  after,  are  usually  calculated  to  give 


POINTS    OF   COMMUNITY   OF    SENSATION    AND    THOUCtHT.     363 

US  pleasure  ;  yet,  very  often,  we  indulge  in  ideal  aspirations 
that  are  impracticable,  and  that,  if  we  were  masters  of  our- 
selves, we  would  disregard  and  repress.  Unfortunately, 
however,  a  certain  notion — say  of  power,  wealth,  grandeur  — 
has  fixed  itself  in  our  mind  and  keeps  a  persistent  hold  there, 
perverting  the  regular  operation  of  the  will,  which  would 
lead  us  to  renounce  whatever  is  hopeless  or  not  worth  the 
cost.  Such  phrases  as  '  insane  ambition,'  '  fixed  idea,' 
'overwhelming  fascination,'  are  used  to  designate  this  not 
unfrequent  phenomenon. 

Our  regrets  for  what  we  have  lost  are  generally  out  of 
proportion  to  the  pleasure  that  the  objects  gave  us.  We 
may  feel  a  sincere  and  a  strong  regret  for  the  loss  of  some 
one  related  to  us,  who  was  an  unmitigated  burden  and 
misery.  The  consideration  of  our  pleasures  and  pains 
solely  would  cause  this  to  be  felt  as  a  relief  and  a  gratifica- 
tion ;  but  we  cannot  so  banish  a  familiar  idea  even  although 
painful, — we  cannot  forget,  merely  because  our  happiness 
would  be  increased  by  forgetting.  Thoughts  persist  by  a 
law  that  is  not  subject  to  the  will ;  and  not  only  persist,  but 
interfere  with  the  course  of  our  actions  and  the  pursuit  of 
our  interests.* 

15.  The  general  doctrine  now  contended  for  is  not  a 
barren    speculation ;    if   true,  it    bears   important   practical 

*  To  sum  up.  Two  forces  are  at  work  in  determining  the  influence 
of  fixed  ideas.  One  is  the  tendency  of  the  idea  of  an  action  to  become  the 
action.  This  tendency  is  exemplified  in  its  unmixed  operation  in  such 
instances  as  the  infection  of  particular  crimes,  and  in  the  operation  of 
sympathj-  generally.  The  other  principle  is  the  tendency  of  an  idea  to 
persist  in  the  mind,  in  consequence  of  its  intensity,  or  rather  the  intensity 
of  the  feeling  that  accompanies  it.  The  power  of  the  will  is  baffled  by 
great  mental  excitement  under  any  circumstances.  It  may  be  for  our 
interest  to  banish  a  particular  idea,  and  to  give  a  footing  to  other  ideas, 
which  our  intellectual  forcss  are  quite  competent  to  suggest ;  yet,  when  a 
feeling  of  any  sort,  whether  pleasure  or  pain,  or  excitement  that  is  neither, 
has  allied  itself  with  an  idea,  the  forces  of  intellectual  association  and 
the  force  of  the  will  are  equally  impotent  to  displace  that  idea.  This  is 
the  way  that  fear  operates  to  prevent  a  man  from  following  out  the  regard 
to  his  own  well-being. 


364  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF   CONTIGUITY. 

inferences.  In  expressing  and  describing  thought  and  the 
thinking  process — an  operation  essential  to  our  subject — the 
doctrine  is  of  great  service  :  it  helps  us,  in  some  measure,  to 
localize  these  processes;  and  the  language  that  might  other- 
wise be  deemed  figurative  becomes  literal.  The  imagina- 
tion of  visible  objects  is  a  process  of  seeing  ;  the  musician's 
imagination  is  hearing ;  the  phantasies  of  the  cook  and  the 
gourmand  tickle  the  palate. 

The  identity  between  actual  and  revived  feelings  shortens 
our  labour  by  enabling  us  to  transfer  much  of  our  knowledge 
of  the  one  to  the  other.  The  properties  that  we  find  to 
hold  good  of  sensation  in  the  actual,  we  may,  after  a  certain 
allowance,  ascribe  to  the  ideal.  Thus  the  qualities  of  the 
sense  of  sight  in  any  one  person,  as,  for  example,  its  dis- 
criminating power,  would  belong  likewise  to  the  visual  ideas. 
The  senses  are,  in  this  way,  a  key  to  the  intellect  (see 
note  C). 

16.  I  return  to  the  Association  of  Feelings  of  Movement. 
It  generally  happens  that  if  we  can  perform  a  movement 
actually,  we  can  also  perform  it  mentally.  Thus,  we  can  go 
through  in  the  mind  the  different  steps  of  a  dance ;  in  other 
words,  the  feelings  of  the  successive  evolutions  have  been 
associated  together,  as  well  as  the  movements  themselves.  It 
must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  the  adhesion  of  actual 
movements  and  the  adhesion  of  mental  movements  run 
exactly  parallel,  and  that  if  the  one  is  perfect  so  is  the  other. 
We  may  sometimes  see  a  mechanic  able  to  go  through  the 
actual  steps  of  a  process,  but  unable  to  go  through  them  in 
his  mind ;  the  proof  being  that,  in  describing  them  to  an- 
other party,  he  often  forgets  a  step,  and  only  remembers  it  by 
doing  the  thing.  In  this  case,  the  actions  are  more  adhesive 
than  the  traces  of  them.  It  is  not  easy  to  produce  any  in- 
stance to  show,  on  the  other  hand,  that  a  series  of  actions 
can  be  repeated  mentall}'  and  yet  not  bodily  ;  for,  as  the 
mental  actions  are  performed  in  the  same  circles,  it  usually 
needs  only  a  volition,  often  the  removal  of  a  restraint  merely, 
to  bring  them  to  the  full  length  of  actuating  the  muscles. 


ASSOCIATION    OF    FEELINGS    OF    MOVEMENT.  365 

17.  The  principal  field  of  examples  of  the  association  of 
pure  feelings  of  muscular  action,  is  the  Voice.  Most  other 
cases  are  so  complicated  with  sensation,  that  they  do  not 
answer  our  present  purpose.  In  speech,  we  have  a  series  of 
actions  fixed  in  trains  by  association,  and  performable  either 
actually  or  mentally  at  pleasure ;  the  mental  action  being 
nothing  else  than  a  sort  of  whisper,  or  approach  to  a  whisper, 
instead  of  the  full-spoken  utterance.  The  child  can  repeat 
its  catechism  in  a  suppressed  voice,  as  well  as  aloud.  We 
can  even  acquire  language  mentally,  or  without  speaking  it 
out  at  all  ;  that  is  to  say,  we  can  bring  about  a  pure  mental 
adhesion.  To  a  learner,  this  happens  continually :  for,  in 
reading  a  book,  one  does  not  speak  the  words  vocally ;  the 
articulate  adherence  takes  place  from  the  first  within  the 
circles  of  ideation.  Children,  learning  their  lessons  in  school, 
must  acquire  the  verbal  successions  in  the  same  way. 

As  a  general  rule,  it  is  best  to  rehearse  verbal  exercises 
aloud,  if  they  are  to  be  performed  aloud,  just  as  in  the  case 
of  other  mechanical  operations.  The  sense  of  hearing  is 
thus  brought  in  aid  of  the  other  associating  links.  Besides, 
by  coming  to  the  actual  execution,  we  set  on  a  current  that 
is  both  inore  energetic  and  larger  in  its  sweep,  inasmuch  as 
it  takes  in  the  full  operation  of  the  muscles.  In  the  early 
school  acquirements,  where  everything  has  to  be  spoken  out 
to  the  master,  the  audible  repetition  is  the  best ;  in  after 
days,  when  we  go  over  a  great  deal  of  language  merely  as 
thought,  or  the  silent  links  of  action,  the  speaking  out  is  not 
called  for — it  would  be  an  unnecessary  waste  of  time  and 
muscular  exertion.* 

18.  The  circumstances  that  favour  the  cohesion  of  meiital 
trains  of  movement,  are  nearly  the  same  as  those  already 
detailed   for   actual    movements.      A   certain   repetition   is 

*  In  the  processes  of  meditation  and  thought,  we  are  constantly  forming 
new  combinations  ;  and  these  we  can  permanently  retain,  if  we  have  dwelt 
upon  them  sufficiently  long.  A  speaker  meditating  an  address  trusts  to  the 
adhesiveness  of  his  verbal  trains,  although  they  have  been  all  the  while  in 
the  state  of  mere  ideas,  he  not  having  spoken  them  aloud. 


366  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

requisite  ;  more  or  less,  according  as  the  other  circumstances 
are  favourable, — namely,  the  general  conditions  of  Concentra- 
tion and  Retentiveness  on  the  whole,  and  the  special 
muscular  conditions — Muscular  Strength,  Spontaneity,  and 
Discriinination. 

AVe  may,  perhaps,  assume  a  common  character  for  the 
active  organs  in  the  same  individual ;  an  activity  of  tem- 
perament that  shows  itself  in  every  kind  of  exertion — in 
limbs,  voice,  eyes,  and  every  part  that  is  moved  by  muscle, — 
or  a  sluggish  feebleness  extending  ahke  over  every  kind  of 
exercise.  But  this  does  not  exclude  specific  differences  of 
endowment  in  separate  members,  rendering  the  movements 
more  adhesive  in  one  than  in  the  others.  Thus,  we  may 
have  a  special  development  of  the  articulating  members  — 
the  voice,  tongue,  and  mouth, — through  superiority  in  the 
corresponding  centres. 

SENSATIONS  OF  THE  SAME  SENSE. 

19.  We  here  enter  upon  the  class  of  acquisitions  com- 
monly denominated  under  Perception,  although  extending 
much  farther  than  the  usual  treatment  under  that  head. 
There  is  a  large  portion  of  our  education  comprised  here  ; 
and,  wherever  this  is  the  case,  we  are  interested  in  ascertain- 
ing the  circumstances  that  are  favourable  to  the  work.  I 
shall  consider,  first,  the  adhesion  of  impressions  of  the  same 
sense — homogeneovs  impressions,  as  touches  with  touches, 
sounds  with  sounds,  etc. 

In  the  inferior  senses,  there  is  little  scope  for  exempli- 
fying the  process.  In  the  Organic  Feelings,  we  might  note 
the  expectation  of  a  series  of  painful  feelings  from  the 
occurrence  of  some  one,  as  in  an  illness. 

Even  in  Tastes,  it  is  not  usual  to  have  any  important 
associations  of  one  with  another.  One  might  easily  suppose 
the  formation  of  a  train  of  tastes,  such  that  any  one  would 
suggest  the  others  ;  but  instances  are  rare. 

So  with  Smell.  If  we  frequently  experience  a  succession 
of  smells  in  one  fixed  order,  an  adhesion  will  be  formed  be- 


INDIVIDUAL    IMPRESSIONS    MADE    SELF-SUBSISTING.       367 

tween  the  different  impressions ;  and,  in  consequence,  when 
one  is  presented,  all  the  rest  will  be  ready  to  arise  in  suc- 
cession, without  the  actual  experience.  In  passing  frequently- 
through  a  garden  along  the  same  track,  we  might  come  to 
acquire  a  succession  of  odours,  and  from  any  one  anticipate 
the  next,  as  dogs  probably  do. 

We  seldom  exist  in  a  train  of  recollections  of  either 
Taste  or  Smell.  They  are  difficult  to  realize  to  the  full; 
and  what  we  recover  chiefly  about  them  is  their  collaterals, — 
such  as,  the  sentiment  of  liking  or  aversion  that  they  pro- 
duced. By  a  great  effort' of  mind,  we  may  approach  very  near 
the  recovery  of  a  smell  that  we  have  been  extremely  familiar 
with,  as  the  odour  of  coffee  ;  and  if  we  were  more  dependent 
on  ideas  of  smell,  we  might  perhaps  succeed  still  better. 

Nevertheless,  it  must  be  admitted,  that  the  recoverability 
of  these  states  by  mere  mental  association  is  of  a  low  order. 

20.  IVie  Idea. — At  this  point  we  cannot  help  adverting 
to  the  highest  product  of  Intellect  as  given  under  the 
designation  '  Idea'.  A  sensation,  when  able  to  persist  after 
the  original  is  gone  and  to  sustain  itself  by  mental  power 
exclusively,  is  properly  described  as  an  Idea.  The  con- 
summating of  this  result  is  the  effect  of  the  retentive 
operation,  no  less  than  the  coupling  of  tv/o  or  more  sensa- 
tions in  an  aggregate  or  train  :  the  retentive  conditions  are 
the  same  in  both  cases;  the  saixie  effect  of  repetition  that 
unites  two  impressions  renders  each  member  mentally  self- 
sustaining. 

The  separate  taste  of  sugar,  by  repetition.,  impresses  the 
mind  more  and  more,  and  by  this  circumstance  becomes 
gradually  easier  to  retain  in  idea.  The  smell  of  a  rose,  after 
a  thousand  repetitions,  comes  much  nearer  to  an  independ- 
ent ideal  persistence,  than  after  twenty  repetitions.  So  it  is 
with  all  the  senses,  high  and  low.  Apart  altogether  from 
the  association  of  two  or  more  distinct  sensations  in  a  group, 
or  in  a  train,  there  is  a  fixing  process  going  on  with  every 
individual  sensation,  rendering  it  more  easy  to  retain  when 
the  original  has  passed   away,   and   more  vivid  when,  by 


368  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

means  of  association,  it  is  afterwards  reproduced  in  idea. 
This  is  one  great  part  of  the  education  of  the  senses.  The 
simplest  impression  that  can  be  made,  of  Taste,  Smell, 
Touch,  Hearing,  Sight,  needs  repetition  in  order  to  endure 
of  its  own  accord  ;  even  in  the  most  persistent  sense.  Sight, 
the  impressions  on  the  infant  mind  that  do  not  stir  a  strong 
feeling  will  be  apt  to  vanish  as  soon  as  the  eye  is  turned 
some  other  way.  We  might  devote  a  separate  illustration 
to  this  primitive  phase  of  our  retentiveness  ;  but  I  am  not 
aware  of  any  important  applications  of  it,  where  there  is 
not  also  a  process  of  association  between  a  plurality  of 
sensations.  Yet,  it  is  proper  to  remark  that  the  confirming 
of  the  separate  impressions  of  sense,  by  which  they  are 
prepared  for  existing  in  the  idea,  is  going  on  all  the  time 
that  these  links  of  coherence  are  in  course  of  formation. 

21.  We  pass  to  the  more  intellectual  senses, — Touch, 
Hearing,  and  Sight. 

In  touch,  there  are  various  classes  of  sensations,  as 
already  seen ;  the  more  purely  emotional,  as  pleasurable 
and  painful  contacts,  and  those  entering  into  intellectual 
perceptions — as  temperature  (discriminative),  plurality  of 
points,  roughness,  smoothness,  hardness,  and  combinations 
with  muscular  elements  (weight,  size,  etc.).  In  all  these, 
there  is  room  for  the  associating  principle  to  operate ;  but 
our  present  illustration  will  keep  in  view  chiefly  the  second 
of  the  two  classes,  or  those  concerned  in  the  development  of 
the  Intellect. 

The  sensation  of  any  one  surface,  with  all  its  peculiarities, 
is  a  complex  thing  ;  it  is  an  aggregate  of  impressions  made 
on  the  skin,  and  having  a  certain  arrangement  and  intensity. 
The  face  of  a  brush  yields  a  number  of  impressions  all 
occurring  together ;  these  must  take  on  a  certain  coherence, 
so  that  the  sensation  in  its  entireness  may  survive  the  actual 
contact.  They  must  preserve  their  co-existence,  and  re- 
turn en  masse  at  an  after  time.  In  comparing  one  surface 
with  another,  as  in  choosing  a  tooth  brush,  it  is  necessary 
only  that  a  complex  impression  of  one  should  survive  a  few 


ASSOCIATION    OF    SENSATIONS    OF    TOUCH.  369 

seconds,  while  the  other  is  felt ;  in  comparing  one  with  some 
Other  long  since  worn  out,  the  permanence  behoves  to  be 
much  greater.  So  with  surfaces  of  cloth  or  wood,  of  stone 
or  metals,  judged  of  by  their  asperity :  an  associating  pro- 
cess must  fuse  the  multiplex  impression,  in  order  that  it  may 
endure  when  the  original  is  gone.  Some  surfaces  are  dis- 
tinguished by  an  aggregate  of  asperity  and  temperature,  as 
the  cold  touch  of  a  stone  or  a  lump  of  metal, — in  w^iich  case 
the  feeling  of  cold  must  cohere  along  with  the  other  parts  of 
the  tactual  impression. 

When  muscular  feelings  and  acts  are  superadded  to  the 
impressions  made  on  the  skin,  we  obtain  the  complex 
notions  of  touch, — such  as  combine  feelings  of  weight,  size, 
shape,  and  situation,  with  texture  or  surface.  Here,  an  ad- 
hesion needs  to  take  place  between  the  tactile  and  mobile 
impressions.  In  order  that  a  workman  may  recognize  his 
tool  by  the  hand  alone,  he  must  have  had  frequent  experience 
of  the  complex  feeling  that  characterizes  its  contact — the 
tactile  impression  of  cold  or  warm,  rough  or  smooth — -with 
the  muscular  impressions  of  weight,  size,  and  shape ;  these 
last  qualities  being  determined  b}^  the  muscular  exertion  of 
the  hand  while  grasping  it.  A  sufficiency  of  repetition  will 
so  fuse  all  these  together,  that  the  tool  can  be  identified  the 
moment  it  is  touched. 

In  plastic  operations,  or  in  dealing  with  soft  viscid 
matters  requiring  a  particular  consistency,  as  dough,  clay, 
mortar,  etc.,  it  is  necessary  to  attain  firm  impressions  of 
different  qualities  and  degrees  of  consistency,  so  as  to  know 
when  the  proper  point  has  been  exactly  reached.  This 
demands  the  cohesion  of  a  complex  sensation  of  touch  ;  in 
other  words,  a  certain  skin  feeling  of  clamminess  and  rough- 
ness, with  the  muscular  feeling  of  resistance,  will  have  to 
cohere  into  one  fixed  whole  that  shall  never  waver,  vary, 
or  be  obscured,  by  the  concurrence  of  other  differing  im- 
pressions. The  repetition  iieedful  for  such  practical  dis- 
crimination as  plastic  operators  require  is  usually  very 
great,   amounting  to   hundreds  or   thousands    of  contacts. 

24 


370  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

Individuals  differ  in  their  facility  of  fixing  standard  contacts 
by  adhesive  association.  This  is  a  case  where  it  is  impossible 
to  mistake  specialities  of  natural  character.  Some  cannot, 
in  a  whole  life,  acquire  the  nicety  that  others  possess  after 
a  few  months'  experience.  Muscular  sensibility  must  com- 
bine with  skin  sensibility  ;  and  we  may  judge,  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  which  of  the  two  is  chiefly  concerned. 
A  delicate  muscular  sensibility  will  show  itself  in  other 
combinations  besides  touch.  Moreover,  some  of  the  feelings 
included  under  touch  have  scarcely  anything  to  do  with  the 
skin, — as,  for  example,  weight,  size,  and  shape  :  great 
delicacy  of  discrimination  in  these  has  a  purely  muscular 
origin;  while,  in  judging  of  the  texture  of  a  cloth  or  the 
smoothness  of  a  piece  of  mahogany,  the  skin  sensibility  is 
the  proper  test,  though  even  here  not  unaccompanied  by  free 
movement. 

By  touch,  therefore,  under  the  operation  of  the  cohesive 
property,  we  acquire  fixed  notions  corresponding  to  the  im- 
pressions made  upon  us  by  the  objects  that  we  handle.  We 
contract  engrained  ideas  of  all  the  articles  that  we  are  in 
the  custom  of  using.  Thus,  a  workman  is  familiarized  with 
his  tools  ;  and  every  person  comes  to  know  the  instruments 
and  furniture  of  their  dwellings.  But,  in  order  to  appreciate 
the  acquisitions  of  touch  in  their  highest  form,  we  must 
refer  to  the  experience  of  the  blind,  who  have  no  other 
sensation  of  solid  and  extended  bodies.  The  impressions 
of  sight  are  so  much  more  enduring  and  revivable  than  any 
others,  that  we  hardly  ever  think  of  a  visible  body  other- 
wise than  as  seen  by  the  eye  :  a  workman,  desiderating 
a  hammer,  thinks  of  its  visible  appearance,  and  not  of  its 
feel  to  his  hand,  although  he  is  quite  able  to  judge  of  it 
by  this  last  feature.  But  the  blind  must  think  of  objects  as 
felt  things  ;  the  revived  sensation  in  them  is  a  projection  on 
the  hands,  not  on  the  eyes,  and  they  alone  are  in  a  position 
to  judge  what  is  the  natural  permanence  of  skin  impressions, 
and  how  far  they  can  be  recovered  and  lived  in,  when  the 
reality   is  absent.       Their  thoughts,  reveries,  and  dreams 


ASSOCIATIONS    OF    SOUND,  371 

are  touches,  not  sights.  Not  only  is  their  power  of  tactile 
discrimination  of  a  very  exalted  kind,  but  they  also  attain 
the  higher  state  of  realizing  past  touches  as  if  fully  present ; 
that  is,  supposing  such  realization  of  touch  to  be,  under 
any  circumstances,  fully  attainable. 

We  must  refer  to  the  blind  also  for  the  association  of 
trains,  sequences,  or  succession  of  touches,  made  so  coherent 
that  any  one  may  recall  the  entire  chain.  A  blind  man 
feeling  his  way  along  a  wall  by  the  hand,  experiences  in 
succession  the  different  contacts ;  and  these,  by  repetition, 
are  so  fixed  in  his  mind,  that,  when  he  is  placed  at  any  one 
point,  he  anticipates  all  that  is  to  follow.  Being  under  the 
necessity  of  always  guiding  his  course  by  touch,  he  acquires 
coherent  successions  of  feelings  of  contact,  as  other  men 
acquire  of  sights.  He  knows  his  whereabouts  in  a  room  by 
touch  ;  the  progress  of  his  work,  if  he  is  engaged  in  handi- 
craft operations,  is  measured  factually. 

22.  In  acquiring  associations  of  Sounds,  we  have  to 
encounter  the  supplanting  tendency  of  the  voice  in  the 
most  interesting  instances, — namely,  Articulate  and  Musical 
sounds.  For,  while  intently  listening  to  a  speech,  we  are 
liable  to  follow  the  speaker  with  a  suppressed  articulation 
of  our  own,  whereby  we  take  the  train  of  words  into  a  vocal 
embrace,  as  well  as  receive  it  passively  on  the  sense  of 
hearing.  This  is  an  instance  of  concurring  or  complex 
association. 

As  already  observed  in  the  other  senses,  the  Ear,  by  re- 
petition, is  formed  to  individual  sounds,  so  as  to  retain  them 
with  ease  after  the  cessation  of  the  cause. 

The  simplest  sound  is  so  far  a  complex  impression  that 
it  needs  a  plastic  operation  to  fix  its  parts  together.  Thus, 
an  articulate  syllable,  ma,  ha,  is  a  really  complex  effect, 
occasioning  a  plurality  of  nervous  currents ;  and  to  make 
all  these  flow  together  in  company  and  order  demands  a 
certain  length  of  repetition.  We  have  already  illustrated 
this  under  the  agglutination  of  movements.  The  next  stage 
is  the  coherence  of  trains  or  successions  of  sound,  of  which 


372  RETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

there  are  abundant  examples.  A  simple  air  of  music  is  a 
good  illustration.  Here,  a  number  of  sounds  follow  one 
another  in  a  fixed  order  ;  and,  by  frequently  hearing  them, 
we  learn  to  pass  from  the  one  to  the  other  by  ideal  anticipa- 
tion. When  a  sufficient  number  of  notes  have  been  struck 
to  determine  the  air,  the  musician  can  proceed  with  all  the 
rest.  His  education  is  made  up  of  many  hundreds  of  these 
sequences,  built  up  by  degrees  under  the  plastic  power  of 
the  mind. 

The  specific  determining  circumstance  in  musical  acquisi- 
tion is  the  quality  of  the  ear,  as  shown  by  discrimination  of 
pitch.  That  Discrimination  is  accompanied  by  Retentive- 
ness,  we  assume  on  general  grounds — there  being  no  facts 
to  the  contrary  ;  hence,  the  one  may  be  taken  as  a  criterion 
of  the  other.  As  regards  the  application  of  the  three  general 
conditions  of  Betentiveness — Repetition,  Concentration,  and 
the  Adhesiveness  of  the  system  on  the  whole, — the  first  has 
to  make  up  for  the  deficiency  in  the  rest.  The  circum- 
stance of  Concentration  is  principally  manifested  under 
natural  liking,  interest,  or  taste  ;  and  taste  follows,  in  a 
great  measure,  although  not  always  in  exact  concomitance, 
the  local  endowment.  Thus,  a  good  musical  ear,  as  tested 
by  discrimination,  would  carr}'  with  it  the  taste,  liking,  or 
enjojTiient  of  music,  and  thus  be  the  best  of  all  motives  to 
mental  concentration.  The  same  line  of  remark  is  applic- 
able to  other  acquisitions,  and  need  not  be  repeated  in  every 
instance. 

Articulate  sounds  are  made  coherent  in  like  manner. 
The  good  articulate  ear  is,  to  some  extent,  a  modification  of 
the  musical  ear.  In  so  far  as  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  are 
distinguished  by  being  combinations  of  musical  tones,  the 
two  sensibilities  inust  be  the  same.  But,  seeing  that  this  is 
not  wholly  the  case,  we  are  not  prepared  to  say  that  one 
may  be  always  taken  as  evidence  of  the  other. 

A  third  quality  of  vocal  sounds  is  cadence  or  accent, — 
the  basis  of  elocution,  oratory,  and  rhythmical  composition, 
and  constituting  the   individual  and   national   varieties   of 


EDUCATION    OF    THE    EYE    FOE    COLOUR.  373 

accent.  The  ear  retains  not  merely  successions  of  articulate 
sounds,  but  also  the  cadence  of  their  pronunciation  ;  and, 
when  very  susceptible  to  this  class  of  effects,  it  shows  itself 
in  acquinng  accent  in  mimicry,  and  in  the  elocution  of  the 
orator  and  the  actor. 

The  associations  in  the  ear  are  only  one  part  of  the 
acquisitions  in  Music,  Speech,  and  Elocution  ;  but  they  are, 
no  doubt,  the  largest  part. 

23.  Cohering  trains  and  aggregates  of  the  Sensations  of 
Sight  make,  more  than  any  other  thing,  perhaps  more  than 
all  other  things  put  together,  the  material  of  thought, 
memory,  and  imagination.  That  process  of  employing  one 
sense  as  a  substitute  for  others,  principally  avails  itself  of 
vision,  the  most  retentive  of  them  all.  Thus  it  is,  that 
objects  thought  of  on  account  of  their  taste  or  smell  are 
actually  conceived  under  their  visual  aspect.  The  image  of  a 
rose  dwells  in  the  mind  as  a  visual  picture,  and,  in  a  very 
inferior  degree,  as  a  perpetuated  impression  of  a  sweet 
odour. 

Sensations  of  sight,  as  we  have  seen,  are  compounded  of 
visual  spectra  and  muscular  feelings,  A  visible  picture  is, 
in  fact  (after  allowing  for  span),  a  train  of  rapid  movements 
of  the  eyes,  hither  and  thither,  over  luminous  points,  lines, 
and  surfaces. 

The  education  of  the  Eye  goes  through  all  the  stages 
described  for  the  other  senses.  There  is,  in  the  first  place, 
an  engrained  impression  of  each  separate  Colour, — the 
result  of  repetition,  enabling  their  several  ideas  to  endure 
in  the  absence  of  the  original,  and  to  persist  of  their  own 
accord  when  once  suggested. 

The  influence  that  gives  the  optical  currents  a  facility  in 
being  induced  and  continued,  so  as  to  make  one  colour,  as 
green,  an  object  of  comparison  with  other  colours,  is  doubt- 
less the  same  plastic  power  that  forms  aggregates  of  coloured 
expanse,  connecting  together  a  succession  of  tints,  as  a 
rainbow,  or  a  sunset.  When  we  have  passed  repeatedly 
through  the  successive  colours,  the  impression  of  one  comes 


374  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

to  induce  the  next,  and  that  the  following,  and  so  on  in 
order.  But  we  can  scarcely  advance  a  step  in  this  illustra- 
tion without  bringing  in  the  movements  of  the  eye,  and  the 
feelings  belonging  thereto.  I  can  imagine  an  instance 
where  the  eyes,  in  a  state  of  rest,  have  before  them  a  number 
of  colours  produced  in  a  fixed  succession,  flash  after  flash — red, 
orange,  green,  blue,  violet,  white,  black,  etc., — in  which  case 
a  train  of  pure  optical  impressions  would  become  fixed  in  the 
mind  ;  and  the  occurrence  of  the  first  would  tend  to  revive 
an  image  of  the  second,  third,  etc.,  on  to  the  last.  The 
gradations  of  daylight  and  darkness  are  associated  in  this 
way.  But,  in  the  ordinary  case  of  associated  colours,  they 
exist  side  by  side,  as  in  the  colours  of  the  landscape  ;  and  we 
move  the  eyes  to  see  them,  and  thereby  incorporate  the  act 
and  feeling  of  Movement  with  the  sensations  of  light.  If 
the  eye  is  in  this  way  habituated  to  a  train  of  colours,  the 
habituation  consists  in  this, — that  with  each  colour  are 
associated  both  a  movement  of  the  eye  and  a  second  colour, 
and  with  this  last  movement  and  colour  are  connected  a 
third  movement  and  a  new  colour,  and  so  on  to  the  limit 
of  the  picture.  Suppose,  for  example,  a  chain  of  fields  of 
different  lengths  and  of  varying  tints.  The  eye  first  sweeps 
over  a  yellow  corn  field,  then  passes  to  a  grass  field  of 
double  the  length,  then  to  a  plantation  of  wood  still  longer. 
The  image  of  the  first  is  an  impression  of  yellow,  accom- 
panied with  a  definite  sweep  of  the  eye,  and  a  corresponding 
continuance  of  the  yellow  impression  ;  the  image  of  the 
second  is  a  green  effect,  doubly  prolonged,  or  accompanied 
with  a  double  sweep  of  the  eye,  or  the  head,  or  both  ;  the 
third  image  is  a  different  tint  of  green,  embedded  in  a  still 
wider  muscular  sweep.  In  these  circumstances,  and  after 
due  repetition,  if  the  eye  is  impressed  with  the  proper  yellow 
hue  along  with  the  definite  ocular  movement  accompanying 
it,  the  image  of  the  first  field  will  be  reinstated,  and  the 
mental  movement  set,  as  it  were,  in  an  old  and  accustomed 
groove  ;  and  there  will  be  a  transition  from  the  optical 
impression  of  yellow  in  a  given  expanse,  to  the  optical  im- 


VISIBLE    FORMS.  375 

pression  of  a  shade  of  green  with  an  additional  muscular 
sweep,  and,  lastly,  to  another  shade  of  green  with  a  still 
greater  movement.  These  united  impressions  will  be  re- 
induced,  one  after  another,  as  a  consequence  of  contiguous 
growth. 

Let  us  divide  the  detailed  illustration  into  the  two  cases 
of  Outline  Forms  and  Coloured  Surfaces.  In  order  to 
exemplify  the  class  of  Outline  Forms,  we  will  suppose  a 
white  ring  on  a  dark  ground.  Here  we  have  a  line  of  light 
and  a  round  sweep  of  the  eye  concurring  in  one  impression. 
The  eye,  following  the  ring,  imbibes  a  continuous  effect  of 
light  while  performing  a  round  movement  :  an  optical  and  a 
muscular  impression  are  conjoined,  the  muscular  predomin- 
ating; for  the  colour  of  the  circumference  is  merely  suffi- 
cient to  give  the  lead  to  the  ocular  movement.  The  fixing 
of  the  image  depends,  almost  exclusively,  on  the  cohesion  of 
movements  of  the  muscles  of  the  eye.  Now,  this  case  of  the 
ring  typifies  a  large  class  of  important  visual  notions.  The 
figures  of  geometry  ;  the  symbols  or  ciphers  of  Algebra, 
Chemistry,  and  the  other  symbolical  sciences  ;  the  plans, 
diagrams,  and  outlines,  used  in  the  mechanical  arts, — all 
depend  for  their  retention,  in  the  first  instance,  on  the  purely 
muscular  endowments  of  the  eye.  Written  language  fur- 
nishes another  class  of  visible  forms ;  and,  in  the  fine  arts 
of  Sculpture  and  Architecture,  form  is  the  chief  matter  of  the 
artist's  consideration. 

The  circumstances  that  favour  this  acquisition  are,  as 
before,  partly  general  and  partly  special.  The  genera.1  adhe- 
siveness of  the  system  being  assumed,  the  special  condition 
is  retentiveness  for  Ocular  Movements.  According  to  the 
assumption  formerly  made,  this  will  be  found  accompanying 
the  special  power  of  discrimination  in  the  muscles  of  the  eye, 
— the  consequence,  no  doubt,  of  a  high  development  in  the 
centres  for  regulating  their  movements. 

Next  to  the  general  and  the  local  retentiveness,  we  must 
advert  to  the  mental  Concentration,  as  due  more  especially 
to  interest,  taste,  or  liking,  or  a  regard  to  the  end  to  be  served. 


376  EETEXTIVENESS — LAW    OF    COXTIGriTT. 

We  have  noted  three  different  classes  of  outline  forms,  all 
■equally  retainable,  so  far  as  the  muscular  retentiveness  of  the 
eye  is  concerned,  but  whose  retention  is  stimulated  by  very 
different  motives.  There  are  scientific  forms,  as  the  figures 
of  Euclid  ;  arbitrary  forms,  as  in  written  language  ;  and 
artistic  forms.  The  attention  to  the  first  is  prompted  by 
wliatever  feelings  constitute  the  scientific  interest  or  taste  ; 
the  second  class,  the  arbitrary  forms  of  language,  are  aided  by 
our  interest  in  the  ends  of  language,  either  for  ordinary  pur- 
poses, or  for  the  studies  of  the  scholar  ;  the  attention  to  the 
last  is  stimulated  by  the  sensibility  to  Art.  Looking  at  the 
peculiarities  of  these  several  cases,  we  can  note  that  there  is 
a  greater  concentration  of  mind  upon  the  forms  of  Science 
and  of  Art,  these  being  few  and  important,  than  upon  the 
symbols  of  language,  which  are  numerous  and  individually 
unimportant  in  the  comparison.  One  would  say  that,  in  the 
case  of  language  and  arbitrary  symbols,  a  high  natural, 
disinterested,  or  unstimulated  adhesiveness,  would  be  requi- 
site. A  strong  motive  for  concentrating  the  mind  applies 
better  to  few  things  intensely  held,  than  to  a  great  multitude. 
The  power  of  remembering  a  vast  number  of  arbitrary  visible 
marks  may  be  set  down  as  depending,  partly,  on  a  good 
general  adhesiveness,  and,  partly,  on  the  special  muscular 
adhesiveness  of  the  organ  of  vision.  The  acquiring  of  the 
Chinese  language,  with  its  many  thousand  characters,  is 
perhaps  the  most  striking  example.  The  geographical 
memory  for  maps  falls  under  the  same  head  ;  only,  in  this 
instance,  there  may  be  the  prompting  of  a  more  powerful 
special  interest. 

24.  We  turn  next  to  Coloured  Surfaces,  or  those  visual 
effects  where  light  and  shade,  colour  and  lustre,  prominently 
enter, — as  in  a  landscape,  a  spectacle,  a  picture,  a  room,  a 
human  face.  Here,  the  object  consists  of  an  aggregate  of 
masses  of  colour,  which  are  associated  by  whatever  force 
of  retentiveness  or  adhesion  belongs  to  the  impressions  of 
colour.  If  we  repeatedly  gaze  at  a  picture,  its  different 
patches  of  colour  seize  hold  of  the  mind  and  connect  them- 


COLOURED    SURFACES.  377 

selves  in  their  natural  order,  so  that  the  one  can  recall  the 
rest,  and  the  whole  can  exist  and  be  held  in  the  view,  when 
the  actual  object  is  no  longer  present.  Masses  of  coloured 
decoration,  the  colours' of  rich  calicoes,  and  the  variegated 
dresses  of  an  assembly  of  people,  exemplify  the  situation 
where  colour  predominates  over  form,  and  where  the  re- 
tentive n  ess  is  much  more  optical  than  muscular.  The  im- 
pressibility to  colour  is  put  to  the  test  by  the  attempt  to 
recall  objects  like  these.  This  attribute  has  no  necessary 
connexion  with  the  muscular  susceptibility ;  the  two  belong 
to  independent  organs,  and  follow  different  laws.  Persons 
highly  endowed  as  regards  Colour  have  one  of  the  gifts  of  a 
pictorial  artist — painter  or  poet.  The  easy  recollection  or 
revival  of  scenes,  and  objects,  and  human  faces  is  necessary 
in  order  to  work  as  a  combiner  in  this  class  of  things. 

25.  As  in  other  cases,  a  superior  hold  of  coloured  sur- 
faces rests  upon  general,  combined  with  local,  adhesiveness. 
A  fine  sense  for  shades  of  colour  is  a  sufficient  proof  of  a 
high  local  endowinent,  which  will  show  itself  in  a  corre- 
sponding power  of  retentiveness.  There  can  be  no  reason- 
able doubt  that  the  sense  of  colour  is  a  primary  sensibility 
of  the  mind  ;  and,  when  of  a  high  order,  its  consequences 
on  the  intellectual  character  are  numerous  and  marked. 
It  is  not  only  identical  with  a  facility  of  remembering 
scenes  and  pictures,  and  shades  of  colour ;  it  also  generates 
a  strong  interest  in  the  concrete,  pictorial,  and  poetic  aspects 
of  the  world,  and  a  repulsion  to  the  scientific  point  of  view, 
which  deals  with  nature  by  means  of  abstractions  and  naked 
symbols.  We  are  not  to  look  for  the  scientific  aptitudes  in 
a  mind  highly  sensitive  to  colour. 

Besides,  then,  the  positive  conditions  already  enumerated 
of  retentiveness  to  Form,  we  should  add,  as  a  negative 
condition,  a  moderate,  or  even  inferior,  susceptibility  to 
Colour.  The  scientific  man,  the  verbal  scholar,  and  the 
artist  in  forms,  are  all  the  more  powerful  in  their  respective 
walks,  that  the  impressibility  of  the  eye  to  colour  is  reduced 
to  a  minimum.     The  ordinary  limits  of  the  human  mind 


378  RETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

seem  not  to  permit  a  high  development  in  two  such  divergent 
lines  of  talent. 

26.  As  a  wide  ranging  and  important  example  of  association 
within  the  same  sense,  we  may  quote  the  advance  that  acquisition 
makes  in  the  span  or  grasp  of  an  instantaneous  sensation.  In 
the  three  higher  senses — Touch,  Hearing,  Sight, — the  element  of 
expanse,  plurality,  or  multiplicity,  is  manifested  on  a  considerable 
scale.  It  occurs  first,  prior  to  all  acquisition,  in  the  range  of  a 
single  instantaneous  exercise  of  sense,  to  be  afterwards  extended 
by  association.  What  the  primitive  compass  may  be  in  the  case 
of  the  several  senses,  we  can  do  little  more  than  vaguely  divine ; 
what  it  is,  after  our  education  has  advanced  some  way,  we  can 
more  readily  judge. 

Most  conspicuous  and  unmistakable  is  the  sense  of  Sight. 
Making  a  certain  allowance  for  what  may  be  supposed  a  primitive 
span  in  the  case  of  vision,  we  can  pronounce  this  to  be  largely 
improved  upon  through  practice  or  repetition.  We  cannot  exceed 
the  spherical  segment  included  in  the  retina,  at  any  one  glance  ; 
but  we  can  improve  upon  the  fulness  and  distinctness  of  the 
detail  as  realized  to  the  view,  in  consequence  of  familiarity  with 
the  picture  or  scene.  x\ll  this  grows  with  our  growth  ;  its  progress 
follows  the  general  laws  of  intellectual  coherence  that  have  been 
already  recognized. 

The  case  of  Touch  is  substantially  the  same,  although 
inferior  in  degree  ;  the  difference  being  describable  in  terms  suit- 
able to  the  inferiority  of  touch  as  an  intellectual  sense.  The 
reference  included  also  the  sense  of  Hearing.  True,  the  circum- 
stance of  spatial  expanse  is  not  here  present ;  but  there  is  plurality 
in  another  way.  In  listening  to  a  full  band,  a  great  many  sounds 
reach  the  ear  at  the  same  moment,  and,  of  these,  some  at  least 
are  instantaneously  grasped.  Here,  too,  the  grasp  has  a  certain 
compass  by  nature,  aiid  admits  of  being  enlarged  by  acquisition. 
The  skilled  musician  has  the  immediate  perception  of  a  much 
larger  plurality  than  the  untutored  ear. 

27.  It  is,  also,  to  be  remarked  that  the  cumulative  operation 
of  contiguity  is  interrupted  by  the  absence  of  uniformity  of  con- 
junction in  the  things  occurring  together ;  out  of  which  circum- 
stance arises  a  new  class  of  mental  phenomena.     If  only  one 


CUMULATIVE    ASSOCIATION    INTERRUPTED.  379 

species  of  ring  were  ever  presented  to  the  view,  and  if  the  specific 
colour  were  unknown  except  in  that  one  object,  there  would  be 
an  inseparable  contiguous  association  of  that  form  and  colour  : 
neither  could  ever  present  itself  without  the  other.  But  nearly 
every  simple  impression  known  to  us  exists  in  various  connexions ; 
a  pure  white  colour,  for  example,  is  found  in  snow,  in  foam,  in 
cloud,  etc.  Hence,  the  effect  of  contiguity  would  be  to  bring  up 
all  these  objects  when  a  white  colour  is  suggested ;  and  some- 
times we  do,  in  fact,  bring  a  host  of  individuals  into  view,  by  the 
suggestion  of  a  common  property.  At  other  times,  the  mind, 
distracted  by  the  number  and  variety  of  the  connecting  links, 
remains  unmoved  by  any  ;  or,  from  collateral  influences  in  favour 
of  some  one,  singles  out  that  one  to  the  neglect  of  the  rest 
(see  Compound  Association). 

It  will  hence  be  apparent  that  the  occurrence  of  new  conjunc- 
tions with  a  familiar  property  has  a  dissociating  effect.  Liquidity 
is  at  first  associated  with  the  other  properties  of  water  ;  whin 
we  become  familiar  with  ice,  this  connexion  is  partially  loosened. 
Certain  properties  at  first  exclusively  allied  with  liquidity  are  now 
also  allied  with  solidity,  giving  a  second  alternative ;  the  additional 
experience  of  steam  affording  a  third  alternative.  This  is  the  situa- 
tion described  also  under  the  name  Abstraction  or  the  Abstract  Idea. 
By  a  fallacious  tendency  of  the  mind,  the  alternate  connexion  has 
been  viewed  as  a  possibility  of  separate  existence :  because  '  white' 
has  many  alternative  connexions,  the  supposition  has  been  made, 
and  received,  that  whiteness  can  exist  out  of  all  connexions. 

28.  It  is  further  to  be  noted,  with  reference  to  the  process  of 
acquisition,  that  the  vast  complicacy  of  the  things  to  be  acquired, 
of  which  the  visible  world  is  the  most  signal  example,  cannot  be 
overtaken  except  by  a  system  oi  patching ,  or  employing  the  old 
to  piece  the  new.  Looking  down  from  a  height  upon  a  large  city 
with  its  rural  envii'onment,  we  form  a  coherent  picture  of  the 
whole,  which  we  can  retain  even  in  minute  lineaments.  This  is 
possible  only  because  we  have  pi'eviously  acquired  coherent 
mages  of  streets  and  spires,  and  fields  and  trees ;  and  have 
connected  them  in  aggregates  not  much  differing  from  the  present. 
We  merely  tack  together  our  previous  elements  in  a  somewhat 
novel  arrangement  upon  this  new  occasion ;  and  the  whole  stress 
of  the  memory  lies  in  consolidating  the  new  grouping. 


380  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

SENSATIONS  OF  DIFFERENT  SENSES. 

The  concurrence  of  Sensations  in  one  common  stream 
of  consciousness,  — on  the  same  cerebral  highway, — enables 
those  of  different  senses  to  be  associated  as  readily  as  the 
sensations  of  the  same  sense.  \\e  will  now,  therefore, 
review  the  more  remarkable  instances  that  arise  out  of 
this  heterogeneous  concurrence.  In  so  doing,  it  will  be 
convenient  to  include  also  Movements — actual  and  ideal. 

29.  Movements  with  Sensations. — It  was  previously  re- 
marked (p.  331)  that  there  are  few  perfect  associations  of 
mere  movement ;  the  sense  of  the  effect  contributing  most 
of  the  cohesiveness  of  a  train  of  muscular  actions.  There  is, 
therefore,  the  union  of  a  movement  with  a  sensation  at  each 
stage  of  the  performance  of  a  complicated  operation.  Even 
the  simple  case  of  walking  requires  that  the  expected  contact 
of  the  foot  with  solid  ground  should  concur  with  the  motor 
stimulus  of  associated  movements. 

Under  the  same  head,  we  may  place  the  association  of 
Actions  with  sensible  Signs  ;  as  in  all  that  department  of 
lingual  acquisition  wherein  names  have  the  meaning  of 
command,  direction,  guidance,  control.  Every  movement 
that  we  make  is  connected  with  a  certain  form  of  words, 
or  a  particular  signal,  which  may  set  it  on  at  any  time. 
The  child  learns  to  connect  vocal  sounds  with  its  various 
actions,  and  so  becomes  amenable  to  command  and  direc- 
tion ;  and  the  education  is  continued  all  through  life.  The 
signs  for  indicating  action  may  be  various  :  the  notes  of  the 
bugle,  the  signals  at  sea,  the  directions  posted  up  on  the 
walls,  have  all  this  acquired  power  of  commanding  move- 
ments. The  same  association  enters  into  the  education  of 
animals  :  the  horse  and  the  dog  soon  learn  to  connect 
specific  actions  with  the  language,  tones,  and  looks  of 
human  beings.*  Long  before  children  possess  the  power 
of  utterance  theinselves,  many  of  their  actions  are  associ- 
ated with  the  sounds  of  language  as  uttered  by  others. 

*  The  omnibus  horse  resumes  his  pace  on  the  sound  of  shutting  the  door. 


IDEAS    OF   MOVEMENT   WITH    SENSATIONS.  381 

30.  Muscidar  Ideas  with  Sensations. — The  enduring  forms, 
impressions,  or  Ideas  of  Movement,  are  associated  with  Sen- 
sations ;  and  the  two  things  recall  each  other.  In  the  three 
higher  senses,  we  have  seen  that  there  is  an  association  of 
these  two  elements  ;  many  tactile,  audible,  and  ^'isible  sen- 
sations being  a  coalition  of  the  two.  Under  Sight,  we  con- 
nect the  visible  appearances  of  objects  wdth  their  weight, 
hardness,  and  tenacity, — qualities  mostly  muscular  in  their 
perception.  Having  experience  of  the  weight  of  a  piece  of 
stone  of  a  certain  appearance,  we  associate  the  appearance 
with  the  weight, — the  one  suggesting  the  other ;  so  with 
hardness  or  tenacity.  In  this  way,  we  have  an  associated 
connexion  between  substances  and  their  uses  founded  on 
these  properties.  We  acquire  a  strong  feeling  of  the  differ- 
ence between  timber  and  stone,  and  between  stone  and 
metal,  and  demand  that  each  should  be  differently  proportioned 
in  all  kinds  of  erections  and  mechanical  operations.  It  has 
been  remarked  that  our  sense  of  Architectural  proportions 
is  founded  on  our  experience  of  stone,  and  would  require  to 
be  re-adjusted  if  iron  were  as  universally  employed.  If  the 
specific  gra\aty  of  the  rocky  materials  of  the  globe  had  been 
equal  to  lead,  instead  of  being  about  two  and  a  half  times 
water,  our  sense  of  the  weight  of  every  piece  of  stone  would 
have  been  four  times  as  gi'eat  as  at  present,  and  we  should 
consequently  have  exacted,  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  eye, 
far  more  massive  proportions  in  every  kind  of  stone  work* 

The  knowledge  of  the  distance  and  the  direction  of 
Sounds  (Hearing,  §  13),  is,  in  reality,  an  association  between 
sounds  and  movements,  or  else  muscular  ideas.  The  pro- 
perties themselves  are,  not  audible,  but  locomotive  properties, 
— signified  to  the  mind  by  sensations  of  sound. 

31.  Sensations  unth  Sensations. — Under  this  head  allusion 

*  That  is,  supposing  there  was  no  increased  tenacity,  or  power  to  resist 
crushing.  Iron  buildings  are  less  massive  than  stone,  notwithstanding  the 
greater  density  of  the  material ;  but,  in  this  case,  the  greater  strength  of  the 
substance  comes  into  play,  and  the  employment  of  hollow  and  slender  forms 
takes  off  from  the  weight  to  be  supported. 


382  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

might  be  made  to  all  the  combinations  that  would  arise  by 
taking  each  sense  along  with  every  other  :  organic  sensations 
with  tastes  and  sinells,  with  touches,  sounds,  and  sights  ; 
tastes  with  smells,  etc. ;  smells  with  touches,  and  so  on. 
But  it  will  suffice  to  quote  the  associations  among  the 
three  higher  senses. 

Touches  are  associated  with  sounds,  when  a  body  struck 
tells  by  the  ring  how  it  would  feel,— as  in  discriminating 
stone,  wood,  glass,  pottery,  etc.  This  is  a  very  abundant, 
and  generally  very  secure,  adhesion. 

Touches  are  associated  with  sights,  in  the  great  compre- 
hensive case  of  connecting  the  tactile  properties  of  things 
with  their  visible  appearance,  whereby  the  one  can  instantly 
bring  to  mind  the  other.  We  associate  the  tangible  qualities 
of  roughness,  smoothness,  solidity,  liquidity,  viscidity,  with 
the  characteristic  impressions  they  make  on  the  eye ;  and 
we  can  at  any  time  recall  the  touch  by  the  sight,  or  the 
sight  by  the  touch.  We  can  distinguish  metals,  stones, 
wood,  cloths,  leaves,  flowers,  by  both  senses ;  and  we  form 
an  association  between  the  tactile  and  the  visible  impres- 
sions. Each  person  has  a  large  amount  of  knowledge 
existing  in  the  shape  of  associated  touches  and  sights. 
We  connect,  likewise,  the  form,  as  revealed  to  the  touch, 
with  the  visible  forms,  and  thus  make  the  one  confirm  the 
other.  Our  notion  of  Figure  is,  in  fact,  a  coalition  of 
different  impressions  ;  and  this  gives  to  it  a  more  com- 
plete and  perfect  character.  I  shall  speak  of  this  again 
presently. 

Sounds  are  associated  with  sights  in  innumerable  in- 
stances. We  connect  the  visible  appearances  of  bodies 
with  the  noise  they  make  when  struck,— as  a  glass,  a  spoon, 
a  book,  a  hat.  We  associate  an  instrument  of  music  with 
the  peculiar  quality  of  its  note ;  we  connect  animals  with 
their  vocal  utterance.  So  with  human  beings  ;  each  person 
known  to  us  having  a  distinctive  voice.  In  acquiring 
languages,  there  are  two  cases  of  the  association.  Every 
visible  object  is  connected  with  the  sound  of  its  name — sun, 


CONDITIONS    OP    HETEROGENEOUS   ASSOCIATION.         383 

mountain,  house,  etc.  ;  and,  in  learning  to  read,  the  sounds 
are  associated  with  the  written  and  printed  characters.* 

32.  With  regard  to  the  present  class  of  heterogeneous 
associations,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  the  rapiditi/  of  the 
adhedon  will  vary  with  the  adhesive  quality  of  each  of  the 
two  senses  entering  into  the  combination.  Thus,  when 
sounds  are  connected  with  sights,  the  goodness  of  the  ear 
and  the  retentiveness  of  the  eye  will  both  contribute  to  the 
adhesion.  Whence,  all  associations  with  sight  will  come 
sooner  to  maturity  than  the  connexions  formed  among  the 
inferior  sensations.  It  is  this  circumstance  that  puts  sight 
forward  as  the  representative  sense.  Things  that  are  seen 
have  a  more  glorious  resurrection  in  the  mind  than  any 
others ;  we  choose  to  conceive  the  objects  of  nature  as  they 
appear  to  the  eye,  rather  than  as  they  aifect  the  ear  or  the 
touch.  Of  all  the  ways  that  an  orange  can  strike  the  senses, 
the  visible  aspect  is,  by  pre-eminence,  its  revived  manifesta- 
tion—its '  idea '. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  the  association  of  sights  with  sights 
is  the  best  of  alb  the  adhesive  growths  among  sensations;  sight 
being  assumed  as  the  most  perfect  of  the  senses.  This,  however, 
is  open  to  an  important  quahfication, — namely,  that  the  shock  of 

*  Associates  with  Smell. — Although  odour  as  such  is  not  remarkable  for 
natural  persistence  in  idea, — in  other  words,  although  we  do  not  live  con- 
tinuously in  ideas  of  smell, — yet  odours  in  their  actual  presence  are  very  highly 
discriminated,  and  very  suggestive  of  objects  and  situations  embodied  in  the 
higher  senses.  Both  emotions  and  intellectual  images  are  copiously  revived 
at  the  instance  of  present  odours.  The  olfactory  bulb  and  gangUon,  so 
marked  and  conspicuous  in  the  base  of  the  brain,  is  supposed  to  favour  this 
association.  Not  only  is  it  a  considerable  centre  of  sense  in  itself,  but  it  is 
believed  to  ramify  wide  and  deep  in  the  cerebral  cortex  where  it  mingles 
with  the  sense  nerves  of  the  other  senses.  As  compared  with  Taste,  which  is 
the  nearest  parallel  to  Smell,  there  is  an  apparent  superiority  in  the  intel- 
lectual outgoings.  As  the  development  of  Smell  is  not  at  its  highest  in  man, 
being  greatly  surpassed  in  the  dog,  we  may  easily  suppose  that  the  imagery 
and  associations  are  correspondingly  enlarged  and  predominant. 

It  is  remarkable  that  deficiency  or  absence  of  smell  is  not  uncommon  in 
human  beings,  and  that  the  deficiency  is  very  little  noticed ;  showing  that,  as 
a  rule,  it  does  not  occupy  a  large  fraction  of  conscious  life,  whether  actual  or 
ideal. 


384  EETENTIVBNESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

difference  between  the  two  members  of  a  couple  enters  into  the 
impressiveness  of  the  union,  and  the  consequent  effectiveness  of 
the  adhesion.  It  may  thus  happen  tliat  the  association  of  a 
sound  and  a  sight  shall  surpass  in  promptitude  and  maturity  the 
association  of  sight  with  sight. 

The  well-known  topical  memory  of  the  ancient  orators  ex- 
emplifies the  superiority  of  adhesions  with  sight  over  other 
trains  of  ideas.  Instead  of  connecting  the  parts  of  a  speech  by 
the  word  memory,  the  orator  found  a  certain  gain  in  facility  of 
recollection  by  attaching  the  different  portions  to  the  several 
parts  of  a  well-known  building,  or  other  visible  expanse.  The 
aspects  of  the  assumed  building  being  securely  united,  the 
requirement  was  to  connect  with  sufficient  firmness  the  separate 
heads  of  the  oration  with  the  selected  portions.  Something  of 
the  same  principle  of  preferential  and  economical  linkings  enters 
into  all  the  modern  devices  of  artificial  memory. 

PERCEPTION. 

33.  Perception  and  Sensation  agree  in  this, — that,  in 
both,  we  are  in  contact  with  actuality  or  the  actual  world,  and 
have  not  entered  the  sphere  of  pure  Ideation.  It  is  true 
we  have  some  difficulty  in  quoting  Sensation  in  its  abstract 
purity ;  it  being  generally  combined  with  what  belongs  to 
the  world  of  ideas.  Still,  there  is  a  something  about  it  that 
the  idea  proper  does  not  possess  ;  and  that  something  is  what 
we  describe  in  such  terms  as  reality,  actuality,  presentations, 
contact  with  the  outside  world,  and  so  forth. 

As  distinct  from  sensation,  Perception  is  something 
added  to  the  actuality  of  sensation  proper.  It  is,  in  fact, 
that  element  of  the  ideal  that  gets  so  mixed  up  or  associated 
with  the  actual  as  to  be  the  chief  obstacle  to  our  quoting 
sensations,  purely  and  properly  so  called.  The  process  of 
Association  by  Contiguity  is  pei-petually  forming  unions 
among  concurring  impressions  of  the  same  sense  or  of 
different  senses.  The  upshot  or  result  of  this  process  is, 
that  the  occurrence  of  any  one  in  the  actual  resuscitates 
the  others  in  the  ideal.     Such  is  the  general  law  of  con- 


PERCEPTION   AS   DISTINCT    FROM    SENSATION.  385 

tiguity.  There  is,  however,  a  Hmited,  although  very  wide 
ranging,  class  of  cases  where  the  name  Perception  is  more 
usuall}^  applied.  It  supposes  an  actuality,  or  actual  property, 
present  to  some  one  sense,  and  for  the  time  remaining  there, 
while  a  number  of  other  properties  are  represented  ideally 
in  fusion  with  it.  We  might  cease  attending  to  the  actual 
presentation,  and  might  take  hold  of  the  entire  complex, 
holding  it  in  the  mind  as  an  idea  or  memory  ;  it  would 
then  cease  to  be  a  perception. 

There  are  many  instances  where  a  thing  presented  to  the 
sense  carries  with  it,  in  intimate  fusion,  ideas  or  elements 
not  presented.  AVe  can  cite,  for  example,  the  emotions 
that  gather  round  many  objects  of  sense,  and  were  not 
felt  at  the  earlier  stages  of  our  experiencing  such  objects  as 
sensations.  The  emotional  association  may  be  so  intimate 
and  so  secure  that  we  treat  it  as  part  and  parcel  of  the 
sensation  itself,  forgetting  its  history  as  a  matter  of  growth. 
This  is  in  some  degree  parallel  to  perception,  but  is  not 
usually  included  under  that  designation.  The  importance 
attached  to  the  name  as  designating  a  class  of  mental 
products  grows  out  of  certain  doubtful  or  controverted  issues, 
where  it  is  a  matter  of  discussion  whether  what  is  taken 
for  a  mere  sensation — something  primitive,  pure  and  simple 
— be  not  in  reality  a  fusion  of  elements  that  have  come 
together  from  different  quarters  of  the  sphere  of  sense. 

The  first  characteristic  class  of  so-called  perceptions  is 
the  reference  of  a  sensation  to  an  outward  cause  or  position 
in  the  outer  world.  When  we  see  a  candle  flame,  we  at 
once  realize,  along  with  the  visible  picture,  a  complexity  of 
circumstances  that  the  visual  sensation  could  never  have 
given,  in  the  first  instance  ;  although,  from  the  immediacy 
and  force  of  the  suggestion,  we  are  led  to  suppose  that  it 
might  have  done  so.  This,  then,  gives  birth  to  a  special 
department  of  psychological  inquiry, — namely,  the  origin 
and  growth  of  these  peculiar  associations.  We  have  to 
resolve  what  we  believe  to  be  an  illusion  into  its  historic 
growth. 

25 


386  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGFITT. 

Another  class  of  perceptions  includes  our  assigning  the 
local  seat  of  contacts  with  the  surface  of  our  body.  There 
is  here  the  same  illusion  of  immediate  or  intuitive  knowledge, 
and  the  same  possibility  of  resolving  the  illusion  by  assign- 
ing the  manner  of  its  growth  as  an  acquisition. 

The  problem  of  the  origin  of  our  notion  of  Space  ranks 
under  this  head.  We  seem  to  ourselves  to  see,  not  merely  a 
visual  expanse  of  coloured  surface,  but,  along  with  that,  the 
distances  from  the  eye  of  the  different  parts,  the  actual 
magnitudes  of  the  different  objects,  and  even  their  sensible 
qualities  as  felt  by  other  senses.  So  subtle  and  difficult  is 
the  problem  thus  presented,  that  parties  are  ranged  on  both 
sides  of  the  matter  at  issue  ;  some  contending  that  space 
relations  properly  so  called  are  seen  at  once  by  vision  pure 
and  simple  ;  others  assigning  to  the  supposed  visual  complex 
a  specific  derivation — in  other  words,  ranking  it  as  not  a 
sensation  but  a  perception. 

Perception  is  the  word  used  by  the  older  psychologists  for 
the  peculiar  product  here  described.  The  prevailing  usage 
now  is  to  substitute  Perce'pt  for  the  same  meaning, — which 
saves  an  ambiguity  in  using  the  same  word  both  for  an 
intellectual  faculty  and  for  its  result. 

External  Perception. 

AVe  have  now,  at  this  point,  to  consider  the  perception 
and  the  knowledge  of  the  Material  AYorld,  which  come 
through  the  muscular  feelings  and  the  sensations,  by  their 
associations  with  one  another.  The  manner  of  attaining  to 
this  knowledge,  its  exact  nature,  and  the  degree  of  certainty 
attaching  to  it,  give  rise  to  some  of  the  greatest  questions  of 
metaphysical  philosophy.  Two  problems  especially  call  for 
notice  at  this  stage.  The  first  is  the  origin  of  the  percep- 
tions we  owe  to  vision, — namely,  the  Forms  and  Magnitudes 
of  External  Bodies,  and  their  Distances  from  the  eye.  Ever 
since  these  perceptions  were  affirmed  by  Berkeley  to  be, 
not  original,  but  acquired,  they  have  formed  a  subject  of 
discussion  with  metaphysical  writers.     The  second  question 


ASSOCIATIONS   WITH    THE    ACTIVITY   OF    THE    ETE.       387 

relates  to  the  Perception  of  an  External  and  Material  World. 
It  grew  out  of  the  other,  both  historically  and  naturally,  and 
was  the  prominent  metaphysical  question  of  the  eighteenth 
century. 

34.  Of  the  Perception  of  the  Distances  and  the  Magnitudes  of 
External  Bodies. — The  distinctive  susceptibility  of  the  eye 
is  for  Colour.  This  is  the  effect  specific  to  it  as  a  sense. 
But  the  feeling  of  Colour  bij  itself  implies  no  knowledge  of 
any  outward  object,  as  a  cause  or  a  thing  wherein  the  colour 
inheres.  It  is  simply  a  mental  effect  or  influence, — a  feeling 
or  conscious  state,  which  we  should  be  able  to  distinguish 
from  other  conscious  states, — as,  for  example,  a  smell  or  a 
sound.  We  should  also  be  able  to  mark  the  difference  be- 
tween it  and  others  of  the  same  kind,  more  or  less  vivid,  more 
or  less  enduring,  inore  or  less  voluminous.  So  we  should 
distinguish  the  qualitative  differences  between  one  colour  and 
another.  Pleasure  or  pain,  with  discrimination  of  intensitj^ 
and  of  duration,  would  attach  to  the  mere  sensation  of 
colour.  Knowledge  or  belief  in  an  external  or  material 
coloured  body,  there  would  apparently  be  none. 

But,  when  we  add  the  Active  or  Muscular  sensibilitj'  of 
the  eye,  we  obtain  new  products.  The  sweep  of  the  eye 
over  the  coloured  field  gives  a  feeling  of  a  definite  amount  of 
action,  an  exercise  of  internal  power  ;  which  is  something 
totally  different  from  the  passive  feeling  of  light.  This 
action  has  many  various  modes,  all  of  the  same  quality,  but 
all  distinctively  felt  and  recognized  hy  us.  Thus,  the  move- 
ments may  be  in  any  direction — horizontal,  vertical,  or 
slanting ;  and  every  one  of  these  movements  is  felt  as  dif- 
ferent from  every  other.  In  addition  to  these,  there  are  the 
movements  of  adjustment  of  the  eye,  in  accordance  with 
differences  in  the  remoteness  of  objects.  We  have  distinctive 
feelings  belonging  to  these  different  adjustments,  just  as  we 
have  for  the  different  movements  across  the  field  of  view.  If 
the  eyes  are  first  adjusted  to  clear  vision  for  an  object  six 
inches  from  the  eye,  and  afterwards  change  their  adjustment 
to  suit  an  object  six  feet  distant,  we  are  distinctly  conscious  of 


388  RETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

the  change,  and  of  the  degree  or  amount  of  it ;  we  know  that 
the  change  is  greater  than  in  extending  the  adjustment  to  a 
three-feet  distance,  while  it  is  less  than  we  should  have  to  go 
through  for  a  twenty-feet  distance.  Thus,  in  the  alterations 
of  the  eyes  for  near  and  far,  we  have  a  distinctive  conscious- 
ness of  amount  or  degree, — no  less  than  in  the  movements  for 
right  and  left,  up  and  down.  Feelings  having  the  character 
of  activity  are  thus  incorporated  with  the  sensibility  to  colour: 
the  luminous  impression  is  associated  with  exertion  on  our 
part,  and  is  no  longer  a  purely  passive  state.  We  find  that 
the  light  changes  as  our  activity  changes  ;  we  recognize  in  it 
a  certain  connexion  with  our  movements ;  an  association 
springs  up  between  the  passive  feeling  and  the  active  energies 
of  the  visual  organ,  and  of  the  body  generally, — the  changes 
of  view  involving  movements  of  the  head  and  trunk,  as  well 
as  the  sweep  of  the  eye  within  its  own  orbit. 

We  have  not  yet  attained  to  the  perception  or  knowledge 
of  any  outward  thing  as  the  source  of  colour,  or  as  the  occa- 
sion of  the  varying  movements  and  adjustments  of  the  eyes. 
We  have  distinctive  feelings  of  colour,  the  varying  conscious- 
ness of  active  energies,  and  the  association  of  the  two  in  one 
fact,  but  nothing  to  reveal  or  suggest  external  things;  we_ 
have  merely  the  means  of  comparing  a  number  of  various 
mental  states.  Nor  do  I  see  how,  with  the  eye  alone,  we  can 
ever  pass  from  the  internal  consciousness  to  the  external  per- 
ception— to  the  recognition,  knowledge,  and  belief  of  things 
out  of,  or  apart  from,  ourselves,  the  causes  of  those  internal 
states.  Many  have  contended  for,  and  many  more  have 
assumed,  this  power  as  attaching  to  vision.  But,  in  so  doing, 
they  seem  to  have  fallen  into  a  confusion  of  idea  respecting 
the  mental  nature  of  this  perception  of  an  outer  world, — as 
I  shall  now  endeavour  to  explain. 

35.  It  is  admitted  that  the  recognition  of  a  world  apart 
from  self  is  mixed  up  with  the  perception  of  such  qualities 
as  Extension,  Form,  and  Remoteness,  called  Primary  quali- 
ties of  matter.  Heat,  Odour,  Taste,  Colour,  alone,  do  not 
suggest  external  and  independent  objects  ;   being,  for  this 


PERCEPTION    OF    DISTANCE    FROM    THE    EYE.  38^ 

reason,  termed  the  Secondary  qualities  of  bodies.  Let  us 
consider,  therefore,  the  two  facts  of  Distance  and  Exten- 
sion,— both  of  which  imply  outward  existence,  in  so  far  as 
we  recognize  and  believe  in  the  reality  of  a  material  world 
apart  from  the  mind.  With  regard  to  these  two  qualities — 
namely,  (1)  the  distance  of  a  thing  from  the  seeing  eye, 
and  (2)  the  real  dimensions  of  a  body  in  space, — I  af&rm  that 
they  cannot  be  perceived  or  known  through  the  medium 
of  sight  alone  (leaving  out,  for  the  present,  hereditary 
experience). 

Take,  first,  the  case  of  Distance,  or  remoteness.  It 
appears  to  me  that  the  very  meaning  of  this  quality — the  full 
import  of  the  fact  implied  in  it — is  such  as  cannot  be  taken 
in  by  mere  sight.  For,  what  is  meant  by  an  object  being 
four  yards  distant  from  where  we  stand?  I  imagine  that, 
among  other  things,  we  understand  this — namely,  that  it 
would  take  a  certain  number  of  paces  to  come  up  to  it,  or 
to  reduce  the  distance  from  four  yards,  say  to  one  yard. 
The  possibility  of  a  certain  amount  of  locomotion  is  implied 
in  the  very  idea  of  distance.  The  eye  would  be  distinctly 
aware  of  a  change,  when  the  distance  was  reduced  from 
four  yards  to  one  ;  but  it  has  of  itself  no  knowledge  of  the 
cause  or  accompanying  incidents  of  that  change.  These 
are  measured  by  our  other  activities,  and,  in  the  case  of 
great  distances,  by  the  locomotive  energy  and  continuance 
requisite  to  pass  from  one  to  the  other.  In  the  case  of 
objects  within  reach  of  the  hand,  the  movements  of  the 
arm  give  the  measure  of  distance ;  they  supply  the  accom- 
panying fact  that  makes  distance  something  more  than  a 
mere  visible  impression.  When  we  say,  that  a  thing  has 
been  shifted  from  a  position  of  six  inches'  distance  from  the 
eye  to  a  position  of  twelve,  we  imply  that,  with  the  change 
of  ocular  effect,  there  has  been  another  change  correspond- 
ing to  a  certain  definite  movement  of  the  hand  and  arm  in 
a  forward  direction ;  and,  unless  by  supposing  this  additional 
action,  we  have  no  key  whatever  to  the  alteration  that  has 
come  over  our  visible  image.     I  say,  therefore,  that  distance 


390  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

could  not  at  first  be  perceived  by  the  eye,  because  the  idea 
of  distance,  by  its  very  nature,  impHes  feelings  and  measure- 
ments out  of  the  eye,  and  located  in  the  other  active  organs, 
■ — the  locomotive  and  other  moving  members.  If  our  notion 
of  distance  did  not  reveal  to  us  the  fact  that  by  so  many 
steps,  or  by  a  certain  swing  of  the  arm  or  bend  of  the  body, 
we  should  make  a  definite  change  in  the  appearance  of  the 
object,  it  would  not  be  a  notion  of  distance ;  there  might 
be  an  ocular  effect,  but  not  a  revelation  of  distance.  Granted 
that  the  eye  is  very  distinctly  affected  by  every  change  in 
the  remoteness  of  a  visible  object  from  six  inches  to  a  mile, 
that  it  recognizes  a  variation  of  impression  all  through  this 
interval,  this  would  not  answer  the  question — How  far  is  the 
object  removed  at  each  step?  I  do  not  see,  even,  how  it 
could  tell  which  way  the  thing  was  moving.  The  actual 
distance  means  so  many  inches,  feet,  or  yards  ;  and  of  these 
we  should  have  no  measure  by  the  eye.  Indeed,  they  have 
no  relevancy  as  regards  the  eye  ;  they  concern  the  loco- 
motive and  other  mechanical  movements,  but  not  the  move- 
ments of  sight. 

With  the  active  exertion  of  the  body  in  locomotion  we 
have  a  definite  muscular  feeling ;  we  recognize  one  f  xertion 
as  greater  or  less  than  another  ;  the  feeling  of  a  long  stride 
is  different  from  a  short ;  six  paces  are  attended  by  a 
different  consciousness  from  four.  We  acquire  permanent 
and  revivable  impressions  of  these  exertions,  when  any  one 
has  been  often  repeated, — as,  for  example,  pacing  the  length 
of  a  room.  We  can  compare  any  new  case  with  this  old 
habitual  effort,  and  there  results  a  consciousness  of  more  or 
less.  This  I  take  to  be  our  starting-point  in  the  feeling  of 
distance  traversed,  or  of  linear  extension  in  general ;  this  is 
the  source  of  our  perception,  and  the  measure  and  standard 
of  reference,  when  we  arrive  at  the  same  notion  by  other 
means.  When,  along  with  a  forward  movement,  we  behold 
a  steadily  varying  change  of  appearance  in  the  objects  before 
us,  we  associate  the  change  with  the  locomotive  effort ;  and, 
after  many  repetitions,  we  firmly  connect  the  one  with  the 


Berkeley's  theory  of  vision.  391 

other.  We  then  know  what  fact  accompanies  (1)  a  certain 
muscular  tension  of  the  eye-ball,  ('2)  a  definite  feeling  of 
convergence  of  the  two  eyes,  (3)  a  certain  dissimilarity  of  the 
two  pictures,  (4)  a  given  amount  of  clearness  or  haziness  of 
prospect,  and  (5)  a  fixed  or  varying  retinal  magnitude. 
These  ocular  feelings,  both  optical  and  muscular,  have  been 
connected  with  the  further  and  distinct  experience  of  a 
definite  locomotive  energy,  to  be  expended  to  bring  about  a 
definite  change  in  their  amount  or  degree.  Apart  from  this 
association,  the  eye-feelings  might  be  contrasted  or  com- 
pared, or  connected  with  other  eye-feelings ;  but  there 
would  be  no  further  suggestion  in  the  case.  The  collective 
feelings  that  we  have  when  the  ciliary  muscle  is  relaxed, 
when  the  eyes  are  parallel  (vision  being  distinct),  when 
the  two  pictures  are  the  same,  when  a  slight  haze  covers 
the  image,  and  when  the  retinal  magnitude  of  familiar  forms 
is  small— all  imply,  as  the  result  of  foregone  experience, 
that  a  prolonged  effort  of  locomotion  would  be  requisite  to 
convert  these  feelings  into  their  extreme  opposites.  This 
suggestion  of  locomotive  effort  is  the  fact,  and  the  whole 
fact,  named  real  Distance  from  the  spectator. 

Such,  as  translated  into  the  language  of  our  more  advanced 
Psychology,  is  the  Berkleyan  view  of  the  perception  of  Distance — 
a  view  that  long  seemed,  to  the  great  mass  of  scientific  men,  to 
be  irresistible ;  while  very  few  became  converts  to  Berkeley's 
doctrine  of  the  Perception  of  a  Matei'ial  World,  to  which  the 
theory  of  Vision  was  a  prelude.  But,  in  om-  own  day,  the 
explanation  of  Distance  by  association  has  been  impugned ;  and 
the  opposite,  or  instinctive,  theory  reverted  to. 

Many  even  of  the  latest  objections  to  the  theory  apply  only 
to  imperfections  in  the  author's  mode  of  stating  it.  In  Berkeley's 
time,  the  muscular  or  active  sensibility  of  the  human  system 
had  no  distinct  place  in  the  account  of  the  senses  ;  it  was  noticed 
only  as  a  part  of  Touch.  Berkeley's  language,  representing  our 
perception  of  distance  as  an  association  of  Sight  and  Touch, 
must  be  set  down  as  wholly  inaccurate  and  inadequate.  But, 
when  we  substitute  for  Touch  the  entire  aggregate  of  our  Move- 


392  RETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

merits,  there  is  presented  an  altogether  new  front,  to  which  the 
attack  has  not  been  adequately  directed. 

The  strength  of  the  case  against  any  form  of  the  theory  lies 
principally  iii  the  great  maturity  of  the  perception  of  Distance 
at  a  very  early  period  of  life, — which  seems  out  of  proportion  to 
the  usual  pace  of  acquisition ;  while  the  means  and  opportunities 
of  the  needful  experience  are  represented,  by  opponents,  as 
altogether  incommensurate  to  the  result.  These  opportunities, 
however,  are  greatly  understated.  In  particular,  two  leading 
circumstances  are  left  out  of  the  account. 

In  the  first  place,  for  the  experience  of  Touch  (in  Berkeley's 
language) — which  in  the  infant  must  be  very  small  from  the 
immaturity  of  the  organs,  not  to  speak  of  their  limited  range, — 
substitute  the  entire  movements  of  the  body,  however  arising. 
The  locomotion  in  the  arms  of  the  nurse,  is  a  part  of  the  experi- 
ence of  changing  distance.  The  infant  must  have  a  muscular 
sensibility  in  being  carried  from  place  to  place,  as  well  as  in 
walking  on  its  own  limbs  ;  whence,  its  education  in  real  distance 
begins  from  the  lirst  moment  of  life,  and  is  kept  in  constant 
daily  practice.  If  we  suppose  it  carried  from  one  spot  to 
another,  on  an  average  twenty  times  in  a  day,  it  would  have  in 
the  first  year  seven  thousand  lessons  in  distances  on  the  large 
scale,  besides  the  smaller  experiments  with  its  own  arms  and 
body  as  it  acquires  the   self-moving  aptitude. 

The  second  fact  overlooked  is  the  remarkable  delicacy  of  the 
appreciation  of  changes  of  retinal  viagnitude ;  which,  for  all 
changes  of  place,  are  great  and  conspicuous.  This  particular 
sensibility  ranks,  in  point  of  acuteness  and  discrimination,  the 
first  of  all  human  sensibilities.  It  is  a  combination  of  our  two 
most  sensitive  organs — the  retina  and  the  ocular  group  of 
muscles.  Whenever  we  desire  to  obtain  a  delicate  measure- 
ment of  any  quality,  we  transform  it  into  visible  magnitude, — 
as  in  the  balance  and  the  thermometer.  Consider,  then,  that 
the  infant,  in  being  carried  from  one  part  of  a  room  to  another, 
experiences  the  most  extraordinary  expansion  or  contraction  of 
its  retinal  images ;  an  effect  that  must  be  soon  stamped  on  its 
memory  in  association  with  the  attendant  experience,  locomotive 
or  other.  In  mature  life,  we  are  rarely  conscious  of  these  retinal 
changes,  being  accustomed  regularly  to  translate  the  fluctuating 


EXTENSION   AS   ASSOCIATED    SIGHT   AND    LOCOMOTION.     393 

appearances  into  some  constant  real  magnitude ;  but  we  may 
easily  judge  of  their  efficiency  by  adverting  to  the  remarkable 
suggestiveness  of  a  vista.  Now,  until  the  effect  of  the  incessant 
education  in  couphng  locomotive  movements  with  the  impressive 
alterations  of  retinal  magnitude  (together  w^ith  all  the  other 
ocular  changes)  is  fully  allowed  for,  we  cannot  say  how  far  the 
early  experience  of  infancy  is  insufficient  to  form  the  associations 
l)etween  Distance  and  its  visible  signs.  The  question  has  never 
been  argued  on  this  basis. 

It  would  be  easy  to  adduce  many  inconsistencies  and  fatal 
admissions  on  the  part  of  the  advocates  of  the  instinctive  theory ; 
and  all  the  difficulties  attaching  to  innate  ideas  generally  have  to  be 
encountered  in  this  instance.  If  it  be  admitted  that  Distance  is 
something  beyond  a  purely  ocular  impression,  there  is  the  im- 
probability of  an  innate  alliance  between  two  senses ;  we  do  not 
smell  sounds,  nor  hear  tastes.  This  improbability  must  be  met 
by  unequivocal  facts.* 

36.  If  we,  next,  attend  to  the  sweep  of  the  eye  over  the 
field  of  view,  as  required  by  an  object  extended  laterally, 

*  It  is  stated  by  Mr.  Abbot,  that,  though  the  eye  possesses  the  power  of 
perceiving  distance,  it  cannot  possess  any  idea  of  the  amount  of  walking 
necessaiy  to  pass  over  it  [Sight  and  Touch,  p.  134).  !Mr.  Mill  justly  observes 
that  this  siuTenders  the  whole  question :  '  If  we  saw  distance,  we  should  not 
need  to  learn  by  experience  what  distance  we  saw '.  To  whicli  ]Mr.  Abbot 
replies  :  '  He  might  just  as  well  say  that  to  admit  that  a  person  can  be  taught 
to  distinguish  musical  tones  with  accuracy,  is  to  admit  that  they  are  not 
perceived  by  the  ear.  If  we  heard  the  tunes  we  should  not  need  to  learn 
what  tunes  we  heard.  Certainly  we  are  no  less  beholden  to  experience  for 
the  accurate  knowledge  of  the  distances  we  move  through.'  Mr.  Abbot's 
parallel  is  not  in  point.  The  dispute  is  not  as  to  the  intrinsic  sensibility  of 
the  eye,  for  colour,  etc.,  the  only  thing  analogous  to  the  sensibility  of  the  ear 
to  the  pitch  of  a  sound  ;  it  respects  an  added  or  foreign  experience.  The  true 
parallel  would  be  our  hearing  distance, — whicli  also  we  do,  by  an  acquired  pro- 
cess. It  is  admitted  that  we  need  no  education  to  tell  the  ear  that  it  iiears 
pitch,  or  to  tell  the  eye  that  it  sees  colour,  but  we  do  want  experience  to  tell 
us  of  another  property,  discovered  by  another  sensibility,  that  such  property 
accompanies  a  sensation  of  sight  or  of  sound. 

Tlie  dispute  is  interminable  and  futile,  so  long  as  Distance  is  believed 
to  mean  something  exclusive  of  possible  locomotion.  If  distance  be  more  tlian 
the  intrinsic  sensibility  of  the  eye — to  light,  colour,  visible  movement,  and 
visible  form — and  yet  less  than  our  locomotive  experience,  what  is  it  ? 


394  EETENTIVENESS LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

we  shall  find,  in  the  same  manner,  that  this  sweep  gives  a 
most  distinctive  consciousness,  so  that  a  larger  sweep  can  be 
discriminated  from  a  smaller ;  but  it  gives  no  information 
besides.  It  tells  of  no  outward  thing,  so  far  as  I  can  make 
out.  Certainly,  it  does  not  tell  of  extension,  as  Eeal  Magni- 
tude,— for  this  simple  reason,  that  extension  means  a  given 
movement  of  body  or  limb.  If  I  say  that  a  log  of  wood  I  see 
before  me  is  six  yards  long,  I  mean  that  it  would  take  a 
certain  number  of  my  paces  to  traverse  its  length  :  the 
visual  impression  of  itself  cannot  mean  or  imply  any  fact  of 
this  kind,  until  experience  has  connected  the  sweep  of  the 
eye  with  the  sweep  of  the  legs  or  other  movable  parts. 

Accordingly,  I  hold,  as  regards  Extension  in  general, 
that  this  is  a  feeling  derived,  in  the  first  instance,  from  the 
locomotive  or  moving  organs  :  that  a  definite  amount  of 
movement  of  these  comes  to  be  associated  with  the  sweep 
and  adjustments  and  other  effects  of  the  eye  ;  and  that  the 
notion,  when  full  grown,  is  a  compound  of  locomotion,  touch, 
and  \"ision,  any  one  implying  and  recalling  the  others.  A 
certain  movement  of  the  eye,  as  the  sweep  over  a  table, 
gives  us  the  sense  of  that  table's  magnitude,  when  it  recalls 
or  revives  the  extent  and  direction  of  arm  movement  neces- 
sary to  compass  the  length,  breadth,  and  height  of  the 
table.  Previous  to  this  experience,  the  sight  of  the  table 
would  be  a  mere  visible  effect,  differing  consciously  from 
other  visible  effects,  and  not  suggesting  any  foreign  effect 
whatever.  It  could  not  suggest  Magnitude,  because  magni- 
tude is  not  magnitude,  if  it  do  not  mean  the  extent  of  move- 
ment of  the  arms  or  limbs  that  would  be  needed  to  compass 
the  object  ;  and  this  can  be  gained  in  no  way  but  through 
actual  trial  by  these  very  organs. 

37.  The  conclusion,  therefore,  is, — that  Extension,  Size,  or 
Magnitude,  owes,  not  only  its  origin,  but  its  essential  import, 
or  meaning,  to  a  combination  of  different  effects  associated 
together  under  the  cohesive  principle  we  are  now  consider- 
ing. Extension,  or  space,  as  a  quality,  has  no  other  origin, 
and  no  other  meaning,  than  the  association  of  these  different 


HAMILTON    ON   EXTENSION.  395 

sensitive  and  motor  effects.  The  coalition  of  sensations  of 
sight  and  of  touch  with  felt  motive  energies,  explains  every- 
thing that  belongs  to  our  notion  of  extended  magnitude  or 

SPACE. 

This  view  has  both  its  supporters  and  its  opponents.  Of 
the  opposition,  I  shall  content  myself  with  referring  to  Sir 
Wilham  Hamilton,  who  expresses  himself  on  the  subject 
in  the  following  terms  : — '  The  opinions  so  generally  pre- 
valent, that  through  touch,  or  touch  and  muscular  feeling, 
or  touch  and  sight,  or  touch,  muscular  feeling,  and  sight, — 
that  through  these  senses,  exclusively,  we  are  percipient  of 
extension,  etc.,  I  do  not  admit.  On  the  contrary,  I  hold 
that  all  sensations,  whatsoever,  of  which  we  are  conscious, 
as  one  out  of  another,  eo  ipso,  afford  us  the  condition  of 
immediately  and  necessarily  apprehending  extension  ;  for  in 
the  consciousness  itself  of  such  reciprocal  outness  is  actuall}^ 
involved  a  perception  of  difference  of  place  in  space,  and, 
consequently,  of  the  extended  '  {Dissertations  on  Eeid,  p. 
861).*     The  statement  here  made  admits  of  two  interpre- 

*  The  circumstance  that  the  eye  contains  within  itself  an  active  element, — 
namely,  its  very  numerous  and  acutelj' felt  movements,—  renders  vision  some- 
thing beyond  optical  sensation.  Hamilton  does  not  advert  to  this  fact,  and 
seems  to  maintain  that,  even  excluding  the  consciousness  of  ocular  movement, 
the  eye  can  be  the  means  of  suggesting  space.  Now,  so  far  is  this  from  being 
proved,  that  a  verj'  strong  case  may  be  made  to  show  that  the  optical  sensi- 
bility does  not  give  even  visible  form  (to  give  which  would  be  to  step  into  the 
province  of  another  part  of  the  \-isual  mechanism). 

In  following  a  wide  ranging  movement,  or,  in  expatiating  over  a  large 
prospect,  we  must  move  the  eyes,  or  the  head  ;  and  probably  every  one  would 
allow  that,  in  such  a  case,  feelings  of  movement  make  a  part  of  our  sensation 
and  our  subsequent  idea.  The  visible  notion  of  a  mountain  evidently  contains 
feeUngs  of  \isual  movement.  But,  when  we  look  at  a  circle, — say,  one-tenth  of 
an  inch  in  diameter. — the  eye  can  take  in  the  whole  of  it  without  movement, 
and  we  might  suppose  that  the  sensation  is,  in  that  case,  purely  optical,  there 
being  no  apparent  necessity  for  introducing  the  muscular  consciousness.  A 
characteristic  optical  impression  is  produced  ;  we  should  be  able  to  discrimi- 
nate between  the  small  circle  and  a  square,  or  an  oval  ;  or  between  it  and  a 
somewhat  larger  or  a  somewhat  smaller  circle,  from  the  mere  optical  difference 
of  the  effect  on  the  retina.  Whj'  then  may  we  not  say,  that,  through  the 
luminous  tracing  alone,  we  have  the  feeling  of  visible  form? 

By  making  an  extreme  supposition  of  this  nature  it  is  possible  to  remove 


39H  RETENTIVENESS— LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

tations.  The  one  is,  that  the  mere  fact  of  optical  distinctness 
and  plurahty  carries  with  it,  as  a  part  of  its  own  nature,  the 
perception  of  space  ;  a  supposition  entirely  gratuitous.  The 
second  interpretation  is,  that  the  author  tacitly  imphes  the 
Kantian  doctrine  of  space  as  an  a  priori  form,  manifested  in 
consciousness  when  we  have  plurahty  of  optical  sensations, 
as  two  candle  flames.  Without  dwelling  on  all  the  diffi- 
culties attendant  on  a.  priori  forms,  we  are  content  here  to 
present  the  alternative,  or  a  posteriori  explanation,  which  is 
that  space  involves,  as  its  very  import,  locomotive  experience, 
and  is  made  up  by  a  combination  of  sensations  with  feelings 
of  movement,  actual  and  possible.  If  I  see  two  distinct 
objects  before  me,  as  two  candle  flames,  I  apprehend  them 
as  different  objects,  and  as  distant  from  one  another  by  an 
interval  of  space ;  but  this  apprehension  presupposes  an 
independent  experience  and  knowledge  of  lineal  extension. 
There  is  no  evidence  to  show  that,  at  the  first  sight  of  these 
objects,  and  before  any  association  is  formed  between  visible 
appearances  and  other  movements,  I  should  be  able  to  ap- 

the  case  frora  a  direct  experimental  test.  We  may  still,  however,  see  very 
strong  grounds  for  maintaining  the  presence  of  a  muscular  element  even  in 
this  instance.  In  the  first  place,  our  notions  of  form  are  manifestly  obtained 
by  working  on  the  large  scale,  or  by  the  survey  of  objects  of  such  magnitude 
as  to  demand  the  sweep  of  the  eye,  in  order  to  comprehend  them.  We  lay 
the  foundations  of  our  knowledge  of  visible  outline  in  circumstances  where 
the  eye  must  be  active,  and  must  mix  its  own  activity  with  the  retinal  feelings. 
The  visual  idea  of  a  circle  is  first  gained  by  moving  the  eye  round  some  circular 
object  of  considerable  size.  Having  done  this,  we  transfer  the  fact  of  motion 
to  smaller  circles,  although  they  would  not  of  themselves  demand  an  extensive 
ocular  sweep.  So  that,  when  we  look  at  a  little  round  body,  we  are  already 
pre-occupied  with  the  double  nature  of  visible  form,  and  are  not  in  a  position 
to  say  how  we  should  regard  it,  if  that  were  our  first  experience  of  a  circle. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  as  remarked  in  the  text,  with  regard  to  Dis- 
tance and  Extension,  the  essential  import  of  visible  form  is  something  not 
attainable  without  the  experience  of  moving  the  eye.  If  we  looked  at  a  little 
round  spot,  we  should  know  an  optical  difference  between  it  and  a  triangular 
spot,  and  we  should  recognize  it  as  identical  with  another  round  spot ;  but 
that  is  merely  retinal  knowledge,  or  optical  discrimination.  That  would  not 
be  to  recognize  form,  because  by  form  we  never  mean  so  little  as  a  mere 
change  of  colour.  We  mean  by  a  round  form  something  that  would  take  a 
given  sweep  of  the  eye  to  comprehend  it  ;   and  unless  we  identify  the  small 


ESSENTIAL    IMPORT    OF    EXTENSION.  397 

prehend  in  the  double  appearance  a  diiference  of  place.  I 
feel  a  distinctness  of  impression,  partly  optical  and  partly 
muscular ;  but  in  order  that  this  distinctness  may  mean  to 
me  a  difference  of  position  in  space,  it  must  reveal  the 
additional  fact,  that  a  certain  movement  of  my  arm  would 
carry  my  hand  from  the  one  flame  to  the  other,  or  that 
some  other  movement  of  mine  would  change,  by  a  definite 
amount,  the  appearance  I  now  see.  If  no  information  is 
conveyed  respecting  the  possibility  of  movements  of  the 
body  generally,  no  idea  of  space  is  given ;  for,  we  never 
consider  that  we  have  a  notion  of  space,  unless  we  dis- 
tinctly recognize  this  possibility.  But  how  a  vision  to  the 
eye  can  reveal  beforehand  what  would  be  the  experience  of 
the  hand  or  the  other  moving  members,  has  never  been 
explained. 

The  conjoint  experience  of  the  senses  and  the  movements 
appears  to  me  to  furnish  all  that  we  possess  in  the  notion  of 
Extended  matter.  The  association  between  sight  and  loco- 
motion, or  between  touch  and  the  movements  of  the  arm, 

spot  with  the  circles  previously  seeu,  we  do  not  perceive  it  to  be  a  circle.  It 
may  remain  in  our  mind  as  a  purely  optical  meaning  ;  but  we  can  never 
cross  the  chasm  that  separates  an  optical  meaning  from  an  effect  combining 
light  and  movement,  in  any  other  way  than  by  bringing  in  some  experience 
of  movement. 

Professor  James  has  elaborately  examined  the  whole  question,  bringing 
to  bear  upon  it  original  experiments,  as  well  as  criticising  known  facts.  This 
general  summary  contains  the  following  conclusions  : — '  All  our  sensations  are 
positively  and  inexplicably  extensive  wholes.  The  sensations  contributing  to 
s'psice- perception  seem  exclusively  to  be  the  surface  of  skin,  retina  and  joints. 
Muscular  feelings  play  no  appreciable  part  in  the  generation  of  our  feelings  of 
form,  direction,'  etc.  {Psychology,  vol.  ii.  p.  268).  As  muscular  feelings  are 
present  during  the  educative  process  whereby  we  attain  our  space-perceptions, 
the  difficulty  is  to  regard  them  as  merely  otiose.  If  the  supposed  education 
were  begun  and  completed  in  the  lifetime  of  the  individual,  and  if  the  history 
of  infancy  were  patent  to  us  at  every  stage,  there  might  be  some  chance  of  our 
deciding  between  the  opposite  \'iews.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  there  be  an 
indefinable  hereditary  element,  it  is  impossible  to  obtain  access  to  the  stages 
of  the  operation.  All  that  remains  to  us  is  to  give  our  individual  judgments 
of  the  composition  of  the  space-perception  by  comparing  it  in  consciousness 
with  what  we  may  surmise,  from  the  essential  meaning,  to  be  the  constituent 
sensations. 


898  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUI.TY. 

tells  US  that  a  given  appearance  implies  the  possibility  of 
a  certain  movement ;  that  a  remote  building  implies  a  cer- 
tain continuance  of  our  walking  exertions  to  change  its  appear- 
ance into  another  that  we  call  a  near  view  :  and  the  power 
of  motion,  the  scope  for  moving,  exhausts  every  property 
in  the  idea  of  empty  space.  We  estimate  it  first  by  our 
own  movements,  and  next  by  other  movements  measured  in 
the  first  instance  by  our  own, — as,  for  example,  the  flight  of  a 
bird,  the  speed  of  a  cannon  ball,  or  the  movement  of  light. 
The  mental  conception  that  we  have  of  empty  Space,  is 
scope  for  movement,  the  possibility  or  potentiality  of  moving; 
and  this  conception  we  derive  from  our  experience  of  move- 
ments. The  resistmice  to  movement  is  our  notion  of  a  Plenum 
or  occupied  space ;  the  eo^tent  of  movement  is  our  measure  of 
the  linear  Extension  of  body  or  extended  Magnitude.  No 
internal  revelation,  nothing  in  the  nature  of  intuition  or 
innate  suggestion,  would  seem  required  for  giving  us  such 
notions  as  we  actually  have  of  these  qualities. 

In  a  former  section  (The  Highee  Ixstixcts,  p.  330),  the  question 
was  mooted  as  to  the  sufficiency  of  life  experiences  for  consoli- 
dating the  vast  acquirement  involved  in  the  perception  of  tri- 
dimensional space.  The  conclusion  arrived  at  was,  that  the  pro- 
cess could  not  be  completed  within  the  compass  of  our  infant 
education ;  and  that  the  accumulated  experience  of  previous 
generations,  hereditarily  transmitted,  would  alone  account  for  the 
result.  This  in  no  way  aifects  the  foregoing  contention  as  to  the 
concurrence  of  sense  and  movement  in  our  notions  of  Externality, 
Space,  etc.  The  import  of  these  notions  remains  the  same  what- 
ever might  be  the  length  of  time  required  for  building  them  up 
as  now  possessed  by  us.  For  a  further  discussion  of  this  whole 
question,  see  Note  G, 

Perception  and  Belief  of  the  Material  World. 

38.  Under  this  head,  as  now  commonly  viewed,  there  are 
two  entirely  distinct  issues.  The  one  is  characterized  by 
the  term  metaphysics  or  metaphysical,  while  the  other  is 
a   properly  psychological  question.       The  metaphysical  or 


THE    MATERIAL    WORLD.  399 

ontological  question  is,  whether  or  not  the  so-called  outer 
or  external  world  is  a  thing  existing  independent  of  the 
perceiving  mind.  This  was  the  view  prevailing  among 
mankind  until  Berkele}^  averred  that  it  could  not  be  held 
without  self-contradiction.  Perception,  Knowledge,  is  a 
mental  act. 

(1)  There  is  no  possible  knowledge  of  a  world  except  in 
reference  to  our  minds.  Knowledge  means  a  state  of  mind ; 
the  notion  of  material  things  is  a  mental  fact.  We  are 
incapable  even  of  discussing  the  existence  of  an  independent 
material  world  ;  the  very  act  is  a  contradiction.  We  can 
speak  only  of  a  world  presented  to  our  own  minds.  By  an 
illusion  of  language,  we  fancy  that  we  are  capable  of  con- 
templating a  world  that  does  not  enter  into  our  own  mental 
existence  ;  but  the  attempt  belies  itself ;  the  contemplation 
is  itself  an  effort  of  mind. 

The  pros  and  cons  of  this  thesis  constitute  a  topic  of  dis- 
cussion that  passes  out  of  the  sphere  of  psychology  proper. 
It  makes,  in  fact,  a  department  of  its  own,  and  has  occupied 
many  pages  of  dissertations.  It  is  in  contact  both  with  logic 
and  with  psychology,  but  is  not  exhaustively  viewed  under 
either.  Most  commonly,  a  reference  is  made  to  a  supposed 
intuition  or  instinct  that  is  above  the  sphere  of  questioning 
or  discussion.  Whether  this  be  so  or  not  is  the  principal 
point  for  contending  parties  to  deal  with.* 

Proper  to  psychology,  and  strictly  within  its  sphere,  is 
the  genesis  of  our  notion  of  externality,  considered  as  a  part 
of  our  conscious  being.  While,  midway  between  Meta- 
physics, as  Ontology  or  Theory  of  Being,  lies  Epistemology, 
or  Theory  of  Knowledge  ;  dealing  with  the  validity  of 
knowledge,  as  distinct  from  genesis  on  the  one  hand,  and 
from  mere  being  on  the  other. 

(2)  Solidity,  Extension,  and  Space, — the  foundation  pro- 
perties of  the  material  world, — mean,  as  has  been  said 
already,  certain  movements  and  energies  of  our  own  body, 
and  exist  in  our  minds  in  the  shape  of  feelings  of  Force, 

*  See  Mind,  vol.  vi.  394,  vol.  xiv.  384, 


400  RETEISTTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

allied  with  visible,  and  tactile,  and  other  sensible  impressions. 
The  sense  of  the  external  is  the  consciousness  of  particular 
energies  and  activities  of  our  own. 

If  we  were  the  subjects  of  purely  passive  sensation — 
such  sensations  as  warmth,  odour,  light, — apart  from  any 
movement  of  any  active  member  whatever,  our  recognition 
of  the  external  world  would  necessarily  be  something  very 
different  from  what  we  now  experience.  The  state  of  the 
consciousness  would  then,  so  far  as  we  are  able  to  imagine 
it,  be  of  the  nature  of  a  dream,  and  our  perception  of  the 
universe  would  be  sufficiently  represented  by  the  common 
theory  of  idealism. 

But,  in  us,  sensation  is  never  wholly  passive,  and,  in 
general,  is  much  the  reverse.  Moreover,  the  tendency  to 
movement  exists  before  the  stimulus  of  sensation  ;  and 
movement  gives  a  new  character  to  our  whole  percipient 
existence.  The  putting  forth  of  energy,  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  that  energy,  are  facts  totally  different  in  their  nature 
from  pure  sensation  ;  meaning  thereby  sensation  without 
activity,  of  which  we  can  form  some  approximate  idea,  from 
the  extreme  instances  occurring  to  us  of  impressions  lan- 
guidly received. 

It  is  in  this  exercise  of  Force  that  we  must  look  for  the 
peculiar  feeling  of  externality  of  objects,  or  the  distinction 
that  we  make  between  what  impresses  us  from  without  and 
impressions  not  recognized  as  external.  Any  impression  on 
the  senses  that  rouses  muscular  energy,  and  that  varies  with 
that  energy,  we  call  an  external  impression.  Dr.  Johnson 
refuted  Berkeley,  as  he  thought,  by  kicking  a  stone.  In  fact, 
this  action  of  Johnson's  illustrates  the  real  nature  of  our 
recognition  of  externality.  It  was  his  own  exertion  with  its 
consequences,  and  not  the  optical  impression  of  a  stone  on 
the  eye,  that  satisfied  him  as  to  the  existence  of  something 
outside  of  him.  The  sum  total  of  all  the  occasions  for  put- 
ting forth  active  energy,  or  for  conceiving  this  as  possible  to 
be  put  forth,  is  our  external  world. 

Taking  the  order  of  the  senses  followed  in  our  exposition 


b 


EXTERNALITY   CONNECTED  WITH    SENSE    OF   RESISTANCE.   401 

in  the  previous  book,  Touch  is  the  first  that  decidedly  makes 
us  cognizant  of  an  external  world.  But  if  we  were  confining 
ourselves  to  the  class  of  sensations  of  soft  touch,  where  we 
have  the  passive  pleasure  of  the  sense  in  highest  perfection, 
we  should  not  find  much  superiority  in  this  sense  over  smell, 
on  the  point  now  under  consideration.  It  is  hard  contact  that 
suggests  externality  ;  and  the  reason  is,  that  in  this  contact 
we  must  put  forth  force  of  our  own.  The  more  intense  the 
pressure,  the  more  energetic  the  activity  called  forth  by  it. 
This  mixed  state,  produced  through  reacting  upon  a  sensation 
of  touch  b}^  a  muscular  exertion,  constitutes  the  sense  of  resist- 
ance,— the  feeling  that  is  the  deepest  foundation  of  our  notion 
of  externality.  '  There  is  no  feeling  of  our  nature  of  more 
importance  to  us  than  that  of  resistance.  Of  all  our  sensa- 
tions, it  is  the  most  unintermitted;  for,  whether  we  sit,  or  lie, 
or  stand,  or  walk,  still  the  feeling  of  resistance  is  present  to 
us.  Everything  we  touch  at  the  same  time  resists ;  and 
everything  we  hear,  see,  taste,  or  smell,  suggests  the  idea  of 
something  that  resists.  It  is  through  the  medium  of  resist- 
ance that  every  act  by  which  we  subject  to  our  use  the 
objects  and  laws  of  nature  is  performed.  And  of  the  com- 
plex states  of  consciousness,  there  is  hardly  one  in  which 
the  feeling  or  idea  of  resistance  is  not  included '  (James 
Mill).  In  fact,  we  constanth*  carry  about  with  us  the  feel- 
ing or  the  notion  of  resisting, — in  other  words,  the  state 
where  a  sensation  of  touch  is  coupled  with  the  putting  forth 
of  effort  or  force. 

The  main  consideration,  therefore,  in  this  great  question 
is,  that  the  totality  of  our  mental  life  is  made  up  of  two 
kinds  of  consciousness — the  Object  consciousness  and  the 
Subject  consciousness.  The  first  is  our  external  world,  our 
non-ego  ;  the  second  is  our  ego,  or  mind  proper.  It  is  quite 
true  that  the  object  consciousness,  which  we  call  Externality, 
is  still  a  mode  of  self  in  the  most  comprehensive  sense,  but 
not  in  the  usual  restricted  sense  of  'self  and  'mind,'  which 
are  names  for  the  subject,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  object. 

(3)  We  experience  certain  miiformly  recurring  sensations, 

26 


402  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

and  certain  uniform  changes  m  these,  when  we  exert  parti- 
cular energies.     Thus,  the  visible  picture  of  our  dwelhng  is 
a  permanent  and  habitual  experience,   and  the  variations 
undergone  by  it  correspond  principally  to  our  own  conscious 
movements.      But,    at    times,    the    appearance   is   entirely 
withdrawn,  and  exists  only  in  memory  or  idea.     We  then 
feel  the  difference  between  the  two  experiences — the  ideal 
and  the  acuial ;  and  we  assign  some  superiority  in  the  mode 
of  existence  of  the  one  over  the  other.     The  superiority  we 
soon  find  to  connect  itself  with    the  changes   due   to   our 
movements  :  a  mere  picture  or  idea  remains  the  same  what- 
ever be  our  bodily  position  or  bodily  exertions  ;  the  sensation 
that  we  call  the  actual  is  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  our  move- 
ments,   shifting  in   every   possible   way    according    to   the 
varieties  of  action  that  we  go  through.     With  a  forward 
movement,  the  visible  impression  enlarges  ;  with  a  backward 
movement,  it  diminishes.     One  movement  of  the  eye  shuts 
it  off;  another  movement  restores  it.     The  carriage  of  the 
head  alters  it  from  side  to  side  ;  the  bending  of  the  body 
varies  it  in  other  ways.     We  are  constrained  to  make  a  dis- 
tinction between  the  things  that  are  thus  shifted  by  all  our 
movements,  and  the  ideas  or  dreams  that  vary  of  themselves 
while  we  are  still.     Even  if  sensation  meant  nothing  apart 
from  ourselves,  we  should  still  have  to  distinguish  between 
present    sensation  and  remembered  or   revived  sensation ; 
the  reference  of  the  one  to  our  voluntary  movements,  and 
of  the  other  to  no  such  modifying  causes,  would  oblige  us 
to  note  a  vital  difference  in  the  two  classes  of  facts.     Such 
is  the  uniformity  of  connexion  between  certain  appearances 
and  certain  movements,  that  we  come  to  anticipate  the  one 
through  the  other.     We  know  that,  in  some  one  position,  as 
when  lying  in  bed,  a  movement  of  the  limbs  will  bring  us 
to  the  sensation  of  a  solid  contact  in  the  feet  ;  that  another 
series  of  movements  will  bring  on  a  particular  view  to  the 
sight  ;  that  a   third  movement    will   bring  the  sound  of  a 
bell  to  the  ear,  and  so  forth.     We  recognize  all  those  sen- 
sible effects,  thus  brought  uniformly  into  play  by  a  regular 


SENSATIONS   VARY   WITH    DEFINITE    ENERGIES.  403 

series  of  waking  voluntary  actions,  as  totally  different  from 
onr  ideas,  recollections,  and  dreams. 

(4)  As  our  belief  in  the  externalit}^  of  causes  of  our 
sensations  means  that  certain  actions  of  ours  will  bring  the 
sensations  into  play,  or  modify  them  in  a  known  manner, 
this  belief  is  easily  furnished  to  us  by  experience ;  it  is  no 
more  than  our  experience  entitles  us  to  entertain.  Having 
felt  again  and  again  that  a  tree  becomes  larger  to  the  eye  as 
we  move ;  that  this  movement  brings  on  at  last  a  sensation 
of  touch ;  that  this  sensation  of  touch  varies  with  move- 
ments of  our  arm,  and  a  great  many  other  similar  coin- 
cidences ;  the  repetition  of  all  this  experience  fixes  it  in  the 
mind,  and,  from  the  sight  alone,  we  can  anticipate  all  the 
rest.  We  then  know  that  our  movements  will  bring  about 
all  the  changes  and  sensations  above  described,  and  we 
know  no  more  ;  but  this  knowledge  is  to  us  the  recognition 
of  external  existence, — the  only  thing,  so  far  as  I  see,  that 
external  existence  can  possibly  mean.  Belief  in  external 
reality  is  the  anticipation  of  a  given  effect  to  a  given  ante- 
cedent ;  and  the  effects  and  antecedents  are  our  own  various 
sensations  and  movements. 

(5)  A\T^ien  we  find  that  one  fixed  set  of  movements  brings 
on  at  the  same  time  sensations  of  various  senses, — as  when 
approaching  an  orchard  we  have  sights  and  sounds  and 
touches  and  sinells  and  tastes, — the  fact  very  much  enhances 
the  notion  we  have  of  the  dejjendence  of  sense  on  action  or 
movement,  the  richness,  so  to  speak,  of  the  external  world, 
the  value  of  our  action  as  bringing  on  sensation.  Moreover, 
when  successive  movements  bring  forward  endless  varieties 
of  new  sensations,  we  are  in  this  way  also  impressed  with  the 
abundance  of  effect  brought  on  as  a  consequence  of  oiu*  own 
movement.  We  see  the  largeness  of  the  possible  world  as 
compared  with  the  appearance  that  self  makes — the  expanse 
of  our  own  body, — which  is  to  us  a  constant  unit  of  comparison 
and  standard  of  reference.  A\Tiether  the  causes  of  appearances 
are  external  to  our  mind  or  not,  we  are  at  all  events  certain 
that  they  are  external  to  our  bodies  ;  for  between  the  world 


404  RETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF  CONTIGUITY. 

and  each  one's  corporeal  presence  a  comparison  is  possible  ; 
while  between  the  world  and  mind  there  is  no  comparison, 
the  things  not  being  homogeneous.  We  incur  the  absurdity 
of  converting  mind  into  a  substance  to  be  viewed  by  another 
mind,  when  we  speak  of  our  perceiving  faculty  as  an  ex- 
tended thing.  But  a  world  extending  beyond  our  own 
person  we  can  understand  ;  it  implies  that  the  movement 
that  traverses  the  body  must  be  many  times  multiplied  to 
traverse  the  world — that  is,  to  bring  forward  the  whole 
array  of  possible  changes  of  sensation. 

(6)  When  we  come  to  communicate  with  other  beings, 
and  discover  by  the  signs  of  communication  that  they  pass 
through  the  same  experience  as  ourselves,  this  enhances  still 
more  the  constancy  of  the  association  between  our  sensations 
and  the  corresponding  active  energies.  We  ascertain  that,  at 
times  when  we  ourselves  are  not  affected  by  a  particular 
sensation,  as  of  light,  other  persons  are  affected  by  it.  This 
leads  us  to  generalize  sensation  still  more,  and  to  form  to 
ourselves  an  abstraction  that  comprehends  all  our  experience, 
past  and  present,  and  all  the  experience  of  others ;  which 
abstraction  is  the  utmost  that  our  minds  can  attain  to 
respecting  an  external  and  material  world.  So  often  as  I 
open  my  eyes,  I  have  the  sensation  of  light  (the  exceptions 
are  not  material  to  the  illustration).  I  thereupon  associate 
this  sensation  with  this  action,  and  I  expect,  in  all  future  time, 
that  the  action  will  lead  to  the  sensation.  Other  persons  tell 
me  it  is  the  same  with  them.  I  thereupon  affirm,  as  a  general 
fact,  that  an  optical  feeling  will  always  follow  a  certain  muscular 
feeling,  to  me  and  to  other  sentient  beings ;  and  I  can  affirm 
nothing  more,  nor  can  I  have  any  possible  interest  or  concern 
with  anything  more.  The  assertion  that  light  and  the  sun 
have  a  permanent  and  independent  existence  has,  for  its  basis 
and  for  its  import,  that  I  and  all  other  beings  with  whom  I 
have  had  any  communication,  have  had  a  certain  optical 
feeling  in  conjunction  with  certain  activities  of  which  we 
have  been  conscious,  and  firmly  anticipate  the  same  coinci- 
dence in  the  future.     The  external  existence  of  a  stone  wall 


THE    EXTERNAL    IS    THE    COMMON    TO    ALL.  405 

means  the  association  between  certain  optical  impressions 
and  a  particular  locomotive  effort,  and  a  further  and  still  more 
decided  association  between  touch  and  another  effort, — 
namely,  what  we  call  the  sense  of  resistance.  Finding  the 
same  sequence  to  exist  with  reference  to  beings  in  general,  we 
generalize  the  fact  to  the  very  farthest  limits,  and  affirm  that 
it  has  always  been  so  in  the  past,  and  will  always  be  so  in 
the  future.  Our  language  is  apt  to  go  beyond  this.  Out  of 
all  the  particular  experiences  (which  alone  constitute  the 
real  evidence  for  the  proposition) ,  we  construct  an  experience 
in  the  abstract, — a  pure  fiction, — that  goes  the  length  of  affirm- 
ing that  the  sensation  is  not  only  sure  to  occur  along  with 
the  appropriate  actions,  but  that  it  exists  whether  these 
actions  take  place  or  not.  We  seem  to  have  no  better  way 
of  assuring  ourselves  and  all  mankind  that,  with  the  con- 
scious movement  of  opening  the  eyes,  there  will  always 
be  a  consciousness  of  light,  than  by  saying  that  the  light 
exists  as  an  independent  fact,  with  or  without  any  eyes  to 
see  it.* 

39.  Related  facts  in  Visual  Perception.  — In  visual  perception, 
there  stand  out  four  distinct  facts, — namely,  Ocular  Adjust- 
ment for  seeing  an  object,  the  Extent  of  the  image  on  the 
Retina,  the  Distance,  and  the  true  Magnitude  of  the  object. 
We  find  that,  in  the  educated  eye,  these  circumstances  are 
suggestive  of  one  another.  On  this  subject,  I  shall  avail 
myself  (as  in  former  editions),  of  the  observations  of  Sir 
Charles  Wheatstone,  in  his  Bakerian  Lecture,  contained 
in  the  Pliilosophical  Transactions  for  1852.  The  question 
to  be  solved  is, — How  do  we  come  to  connect  a  certain 
felt  effect  on  the  eye,  with  a  knowledge  of  the  distance  and 
size  of  the  object  causing  the  impression;  as  when  we  say 
that  a  lamp-post  is  twenty  feet  off,  or  that  a  distant  wood  is 
within  three  or  four  miles '?  When  the  gaze  is  still,  the 
optical  impression  implies  no  more  than  these  two  facts, — 
a  certain  effect  of  light  and  colour,  and  an  adjustment  of 

*  For  a  more  minute  analysis  of  the  distinction  of  subject  and  object,  see 
The  Emotions  and  the  Will,  p.  574. 


406  RBTENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

the  eyes  singl}^  and  conjointly  ;  when  the  gaze  is  wandering, 
the  movements  and  changes  of  adjustment  operate  in  addi- 
tion.    I  quote  as  follows  : — 

'  Qnder  the  ordinary  conditions  of  vision,  when  an  object  is 
placed  at  a  certain  distance  before  the  eyes,  several  concurring 
circumstances  remain  constant,  and  they  always  vary  in  the 
same  order  when  the  distance  of  the  object  is  changed.  Thus, 
as  we  approach  the  object,  or  as  it  is  brought  nearer  to  us,  the 
magnitude  of  the  picture  on  the  retina  increases  ;  the  inclination 
of  the  optic  axes  required  to  cause  the  pictures  to  fall  on  corre- 
sponding places  of  the  retinae,  becomes  greater ;  the  divergence 
of  the  rays  of  light  proceeding  from  each  point  of  the  object,  and 
which  determines  the  adaptation  of  the  eyes  to  distinct  vision  of 
that  point,  increases  ;  and  the  dissimilarity  of  the  two  pictures 
projected  on  the  retinae  also  becomes  greater.  It  is  important  to 
ascertain  in  what  manner  our  perception  of  the  magnitude  and 
distance  of  objects  depends  on  these  various  circumstances,  and 
to  inquire  which  are  the  most,  and  which  the  least,  influential  in 
the  judgments  we  form.  To  advance  this  inquiry  beyond  the 
point  to  which  it  has  hitherto  been  brought,  it  is  not  sufficient 
to  content  ourselves  with  drawing  conclusions  from  observations 
on  the  circumstances  under  which  vision  naturally  occurs,  as 
preceding  writers  on  this  subject  mostly  have  done,  but  it  is 
necessary  to  have  more  extended  recourse  to  the  methods  so 
successfully  employed  in  experimental  philosophy,  and  to  endea- 
vour, wherever  it  be  possible,  not  only  to  analyze  the  elements 
of  vision,  but  also  to  re-combine  them  in  unusual  manners,  so 
that  they  may  be  associated  under  circumstances  that  never 
naturally  occur  '  (p.  2). 

Accordingly,  Sir  C.  Wheatstone  devised  an  instrument,  being 
a  modification  of  his  reflecting  stereoscope,  whereby  he  exposed 
pictures  to  the  two  eyes  in  such  a  manner  that  the  Distance 
could  be  changed  while  the  Convergence  of  the  two  eyes  remained 
the  same,  or  the  Convergence  be  altered  while  the  Distance  re- 
mained the  same  ;  thus  disassociating  two  effects  that  constantly 
go  together  in  ordinary  vision.  The  result  of  the  experiments 
showed  the  influenceof  each  of  the  two  circumstances, — namely,  the 
Convergence  of  the  eyes  and  the  Size  of  the  picture  on  the  retina 
(which  is  greater  as   the  object   is  nearer),  in   determining  our 


VISUAL    PERCEPTION    OF    REAL    MAGNITUDE.  407 

judgment  of  Distance.  He  found  that,  the  distance  of  the  object 
remaining  the  same,  the  greater  convergence  of  the  two  eyes 
makes  the  object  seem  smaller,  this  increased  convergence  being 
required  in  ordinary  vision  when  a  thing  is  brought  nearer.  It 
appears,  therefore,  that,  while  the  retinal  magnitude  is  unaltered, 
greater  convergence  gives  a  perception  of  smaller  Size.  On  the 
other  hand,  leaving  the  inclination  of  the  axes  unchanged,  and 
bringing  the  pictures  nearer,  thereby  increasing  the  picture  on 
the  retina,  "we  have  a  perception  of  increased  Size  in  the  object. 
'  The  perceived  magnitude  of  an  object,  therefore,  diminishes  as 
the  inclination  of  the  axes  becomes  greater,  while  the  distance 
remains  the  same  ;  and  it  increases  when  the  inclination  of  the 
axes  remains  the  same,  while  the  distance  diminishes.  When 
both  these  conditions  vary  inversely,  as  they  do  in  ordinary  vision 
when  the  distance  of  an  object  changes,  the  perceived  magnitude 
remains  the  same.' 

Thus,  as  regards  the  perception  or  appreciation  of  the  real 
magnitudes  of  objects  seen  by  the  eye,  the  association  lies  be- 
tween a  certain  magnitude  (ascertained  by  other  means  than 
sight j,  and  a  certain  inclination  of  the  optic  axes  with  a  given 
size  of  the  picture  on  the  retina.  The  figure  of  a  man,  of  which 
we  have  a  certain  muscular  estimate  by  our  movements  and 
previous  experience,  when  view^ed  at  some  one  inclination  of  the 
optic  axes,  yields  an  image  on  the  retina  of  a  particular  size; 
and  with  such  inclination  and  size  of  image  we  then  associate 
the  muscular  appreciation  of  an  object  six  feet  high,  etc.  The 
concurrence  of  these  tw^o  conditions  always  suggests  a  similar 
magnitude  or  extent  of  the  thing  viewed.  And  if  the  optic  in- 
clination is  made  smaller, — that  is,  if  the  axes  of  the  eyes  approach 
more  to  parallelism,  -  while  at  the  same  time  the  image  on  the 
rebina  is  correspondingly  less,  as  by  removing  the  object  to  a 
greater  distance,  there  will  still  be  a  perception  of  the  same  size, 
or  the  same  muscular  appreciation  will  be  suggested  to  the  mmd. 
We  have  an  association  of  the  size  of  a  man  with  a  great  many 
different  combinations  of  those  two  circumstances,  produced  by 
variation  of  actual  distance. 

40.  Next,  as  respects  our  perception  and  estimate  of  dis- 
tance, or  the  suggestion  of  a  given  locomotive  exertion  with  a 
visual  appearance.     On   this   head.  Sir  C.  Wheatstone's   obser- 


408  EETENTIVEXESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

vations  have  still  distinctive  value.  He  considers  that  the 
appreciation  of  distance,  instead  of  preceding  the  esthnate  of 
magnitude,  folloivs  it.  'It  is  the  prevalent  opinion  that  the 
sensation  which  accompanies  the  inclination  of  the  optic  axes 
immediately  suggests  distance,  and  that  the  perceived  mag- 
nitude of  an  object  is  a  judgment  arising  from  our  consciousness 
of  its  distance,  and  of  the  magnitude  of  its  picture  on  the  retina. 
From  the  experiments  I  have  brought  forward,  it  rather  appears 
to  me  that  what  the  sensation  which  is  connected  with  the  con- 
vergences of  the  axes  immediately  suggests,  is  a  correction  of  the 
retinal  magnitude  to  make  it  agree  with  the  real  magnitude  of 
the  object,  and  that  distance,  instead  of  being  a  simple  percep- 
tion, is  a  judgment  arising  from  a  comparison  of  the  retinal  and 
perceived  magnitudes.  However  this  may  be,  unless  other  signs 
accompany  the  sensation  of  convergence,  the  notion  of  distance 
we  thence  derive  is  uncertain  and  obscure  ;  whereas  the  percep- 
tion of  the  change  of  magnitude  it  occasions  is  obvious  and 
unmistakable.'  According  to  this  view,  distance  is  more  firmly 
associated  with  the  retinal  magnitude  than  with  the  other  cir- 
cumstances of  optical  inclination.  When  we  view  an  object 
receding,  as  a  carriage,  we  are  impressed  with  the  change  of 
distance  more  through  the  diminishing  size  of  the  picture  it 
makes  on  the  retina,  than  through  the  approach  of  the  optic  axes 
to  parallelism.  I  am  not  at  all  surprised  at  this,  seeing  that  the 
change  in  the  size  of  the  retinal  picture  is  so  much  more  evident 
and  distinct,  as  a  sensation,  than  the  very  slight  corresponding 
alteration  in  the  inclination  of  the  axes.  When  we  once  ascer- 
tain the  real  magnitude  of  a  body,  the  approaching  or  receding  of  it 
is  very  easily  measured  from  this  change  of  the  picture.  Now, 
according  to  Sir  C.  Wheatstone,  the  inclination  of  the  axes,  in 
comixuuj  tcith  a  given  retinal  picture,  suggests  the  magnitude  first, 
mid  from  the  true  magnitude  thus  hiown,  and  the  retinal  magni- 
tude,  toe  infer  the  distance*     This,  it  may  be  remarked,  is  the 

*  When  a  known  object  is  magnified  by  a  lens,  we  suppose  it  brought  nearer 
to  us,  owing  to  this  increase  of  retinal  magnitude  while  the  convergence 
remains  the  same. 

I  have  not  specially  adverted  in  the  text  to  the  signs  of  distance  furnished 
by  the  colour  and  appearance  of  objects.  This  point  has  been  well  illustrated 
by  Dr.  Reid  [Inquiry,  chap.  vi.  sect.  22).     I  quote  the  following  paragi-aphs  :— 

'  The  colours  of  objects,  according  as  they  are  more  distant,  become  more 


PERCEPTION    OF    SOLIDITY.  409 

strongest  possible  proof  of  our  former  thesis,  that  the  perception 
of  Distance  is  acquired. 

41.  Passing  now  to  the  perception  of  solidity,  or  solid 
effect,  on  which  the  discovery  of  the  stereoscope  has  cast  a 
new  light,  by  connecting  that  effect  with  the  action  of  the 
two  eyes,  I  find  that  Sir  C.  Wheatstone,  in  his  published 
paper,  considered  this  as  still  imperfectly  explained.     I  have 

faint  and  languid,  and  are  tinged  more  with  the  azure  of  the  intervening 
atmosphere :  to  this  we  may  add,  that  their  minute  parts  become  more 
indistinct,  and  their  outline  less  accurately  defined.  It  is  by  these  means 
chiefly,  that  painters  can  represent  objects  at  very  different  distances,  upon 
the  same  canvas.  And  the  diminution  of  the  magnitude  of  an  object  would 
not  have  the  effect  of  making  it  appear  to  be  at  a  great  distance,  without  this 
degradation  of  colour,  and  indistinctness  of  the  outline,  and  of  the  minute  parts. 
If  a  painter  should  make  a  human  figure  ten  times  less  than  other  human 
figures  that  are  in  the  same  piece,  having  the  colours  as  bright,  and  the  outline 
and  minute  parts  as  accurately  defined,  it  would  not  have  the  appearance  of  a 
man  at  a  great  distance,  but  of  a  pigmy  or  Lilliputian. 

'  When  an  object  hath  a  known  variety  of  colours,  its  distance  is  more 
clearly  indicated  by  the  gradual  dilution  of  the  colours  into  one  another,  than 
when  it  is  of  one  uniform  colour.  In  the  steeple  which  stands  before  me  at  a 
small  distance,  the  joinings  of  the  stones  are  clearly  perceptible ;  the  grey 
colour  of  the  stone,  and  the  white  cement  are  distinctly  hmited  :  when  I  see 
it  at  a  greater  distance,  the  joinings  -of  the  stones  are  less  distinct,  and  the 
colours  of  the  stone  and  of  the  cement  begin  to  dilute  into  one  another :  at  a 
distance  still  greater,  the  joinings  disappear  altogether,  and  the  variety  of 
colour  vanishes. 

'In  an  apple  tree  which  stands  at  the  distance  of  about  twelve  feet, 
covered  with  flowers,  I  can  perceive  the  figure  and  the  colour  of  the  leaves 
and  petals  ;  pieces  of  branches,  some  larger,  others  smaller,  peeping  through 
the  intervals  of  the  leaves— some  of  them  enlightened  by  the  sun's  rays, 
others  shaded  ;  and  some  openings  of  the  sky  are  perceived  through  the  whole. 
When  I  gradually  remove  from  this  tree,  the  appearance,  even  as  to  colour, 
changes  every  minute.  First,  the  smaller  parts,  then  the  larger,  are  gradually 
confomided  and  mixed.  The  colours  of  leaves,  petals,  branches,  and  sky,  are 
gradually  diluted  into  each  other,  and  the  colour  of  the  whole  becomes  more 
and  more  uniform.  This  change  of  appearance,  corresponding  to  the  several 
distances,  marks  the  distance  more  exactly  than  if  the  whole  object  had  been 
one  of  colour. 

'  Dr.  Smith,  in  his  "  Optics,"  gives  us  a  very  curious  observation  made  by 
Bishop  Berkeley,  in  his  travels  through  Italy  and  Sicily.  He  observed.  That, 
in  those  countries,  cities  and  palaces  seen  at  a  great  distance  appeared  nearer 
to  him   by   several  miles  than  they  really  were:    and  he  very  judiciously 


410  RBTENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

reason  to  believe,  however,  that,  havino-  made  many  experi- 
ments with  the  view  of  elucidating  the  point,  he  inclined  to 
the  view  that  there  is  a  mental  effect  ■prodiiced  over  and  above 
the  optical  effect ;  which  mental  effect  overrides  the  optical  im- 
pression, and  gives  a  perception  really  different  from  the 
literal  sensation.      The  sense  of  solidity,  arising  from  the 

imputed  it  to  this  cause,  That  the  purity  of  the  Italian  and  Sicilian  air,  gave 
to  very  distant  objects  that  degree  of  brightness  and  distinctness  which,  in 
the  grosser  air  of  his  own  country,  was  to  be  seen  only  in  those  that  are  near. 
The  purity  of  the  Italian  air  hath  been  assigned  as  the  reason  why  the  Italian 
painters  commonly  gave  a  more  lively  colour  to  the  sky  than  the  Flemish. 
Ought  they  not,  for  the  same  reason,  to  give  less  degradation  of  the  colours, 
and  less  indistinctness  of  the  minute  parts,  in  the  representation  of  very 
distant  objects  ? 

'  It  is  very  certain  that,  as  in  air  uncommonly  pure,  we  are  apt  to  think 
visible  objects  nearer  and  less  than  they  really  are,  so,  in  air  uncommonly 
foggy,  we  are  apt  to  think  them  more  distant  and  larger  than  the  truth. 
Walking  by  the  sea-side  in  a  thick  fog,  I  see  an  object  which  seems  to  me  to 
be  a  man  on  horseback,  and  at  the  distance  of  about  half  a  mile.  My  com- 
panion, who  has  better  eyes,  or  is  more  accustomed  to  see  such  objects  in  such 
circumstances,  assures  me  that  it  is  a  sea-gull,  and  not  a  man  ou  horseback. 
Upon  a  second  view,  I  immediately  assent  to  his  opinion  ;  and  now  it  appears 
to  me  to  be  a  sea-gull,  and  at  the  distance  only  of  seventy  or  eighty  yards. 
Tlie  mistake  made  on  this  occasion,  and  the  correction  of  it,  are  both  so 
sudden,  that  we  are  at  a  loss  whether  to  call  them  by  the  name  otjudgiucnt, 
or  by  that  of  simple  perception. 

'  It  is  not  worth  while  to  dispute  about  names ;  but  it  is  evident  that  my 
belief,  both  first  and  last,  was  produced  rather  by  signs  than  by  arguments, 
and  that  the  mind  proceeded  to  the  conclusion  in  both  cases  by  habit,  and 
not  by  ratiocination.  And  the  process  of  the  mind  seems  to  have  been  this — ■ 
First,  Not  knowing,  or  not  minding,  the  effect  of  a  foggy  air  on  the  visible 
appearance  of  objects,  the  object  seems  to  n\e  to  have  that  degradation  of 
colour,  and  that  indistinctness  of  tlie  outline,  which  objects  have  at  the 
distance  of  half  a  mile  ;  therefore,  from  the  visible  appearance  as  a  sign,  I 
iiiuiiediately  proceed  to  the  belief  that  the  object  is  half  a  mile  distant. 
Then,  this  distance,  together  with  the  visible  magnitude,  signify  to  me  the 
real  magnitude,  which,  supposing  the  distance  to  be  half  a  mile,  must  be 
equal  to  that  of  a  man  on  horseback  ;  and  the  figure,  considering  the  in- 
distinctness of  the  outline,  agrees  with  that  of  a  man  on  horseback.  Thus 
the  deception  is  brought  about.  But  when  I  am  assured  that  it  is  a 
sea-gull,  the  real  magnitude  of  a  sea-gull,  together  with  the  visible  magni- 
tude presented  to  the  eye,  immediately  suggest  the  distance,  which,  in  this 
case,  cannot  be  above  seventy  or  eighty  yards  :  the  indistinctness  of  the 
figure  likewise  suggests  the  fogginess  of  the  air  as  its  cause ;  and  now  the 


SIGNS    OF    DISTANCE    FROM   VARYING   APPEARANCES.     411 

conjoined  action  of  two  dissimilar  views  of  an  object  pre- 
sented to  the  two  eyes,  means  a  suggestion  to  the  mind  that 
one  part  of  the  object  is  farther  off  than  another,  as  esti- 
mated by  our  locomotive  organs ;  in  other  words,  the 
impression  revives  in  us  an  idea  of  movement  to  or  from  the 
eye  in  company  with  the  picture.     When  the  two  eyes  view 

whole  chain  of  signs,  and  things  signified,  seems  stronger  and  better  connected 
than  it  was  before  ;  the  half-mile  vanishes  to  eighty  yards ;  the  man  on 
horseback  dwindles  to  a  sea-gull ;  I  get  a  new  perception,  and  wonder  how  I 
got  the  former,  or  what  is  become  of  it ;  for  it  is  now  so  entirely  gone,  that 
I  cannot  recover  it. 

'  It  ought  to  be  observed  that,  in  order  to  produce  such  deceptions  from 
the  clearness  or  fogginess  of  the  air,  it  naust  be  uncommonly  clear  or  uncom- 
monly foggy;  for  we  learn,  fi-om  experience,  to  make  allowance  for  that 
variety  of  constitutions  of  the  air  which  we  have  been  accustomed  to  observe, 
and  of  which  we  are  aware.  Bishop  Berkeley  therefore  committed  a  mistake, 
when  he  attributed  the  large  appearance  of  the  horizontal  moon  to  the  faint- 
ness  of  her  light,  occasioned  by  its  passing  through  a  larger  tract  of  atmos- 
phere :  for  we  are  so  much  accustomed  to  see  the  moon  in  all  degrees  of 
faiutness  and  brightness,  from  the  greatest  to  the  least,  that  we  learn  to  make 
allowance  for  it ;  and  do  not  imagine  her  magnitude  increased  by  the 
faiutness  of  her  appearance.  Besides,  it  is  certain  that  the  horizontal  moon 
seen  through  a  tube  which  cuts  off  the  view  of  the  interjacent  ground,  and  of 
all  terrestrial  objects,  loses  all  that  unusual  appearance  of  magnitude.' 

The  following  paragraphs  illustrate  the  effect  of  intcrccnin;/  objects  in 
aiding  our  perception  of  Distance. 

'  We  frequently  perceive  the  distance  of  objects,  by  means  of  intervening 
or  contiguous  objects,  whose  distance  or  magnitude  is  likewise  known.  When 
I  perceive  certain  fields  or  tracts  of  ground  to  lie  between  me  and  an  object, 
it  is  evident  that  these  may  become  signs  of  its  distance.  And  although  we 
have  no  information  of  the  dimensions  of  such  fields  or  tracts,  yet  their 
similitude  to  others  which  we  know  suggests  their  dimensions. 

•  We  are  so  much  accustomed  to  measure  with  our  eye  the  ground  which 
we  travel,  and  to  compare  the  judgment  of  distances  formed  by  sight,  with 
our  experience  or  information,  that  we  learn  by  degrees,  in  this  way,  to  form 
a  more  accurate  judgment  of  the  distance  of  terrestrial  objects,  than  we  could 
do  by  any  of  the  means  before  mentioned.  An  object  placed  on  the  top  of  a 
high  building,  appeal's  much  less  than  when  placed  upon  the  ground,  at  the 
same  distance.  When  its  stands  upon  the  ground,  the  intervening  tract  of 
ground  serves  as  a  sign  of  its  distance :  and  the  distance,  together  with  the 
visible  magnitude,  serves  as  a  sign  of  its  real  magnitude.  But  when  the 
object  is  placed  on  high,  this  sign  of  its  distance  is  taken  away,  the  remaining 
signs  lead  us  to  place  it  at  a  less  distance,  and  this  less  distance,  together 
with  the  visible  magnitude,  becomes  a  sign  of  a  less  real  magnitude.' 


412  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

the  perspective  of  a  street,  there  is  brought  up  the  idea  of 
a  certain  amount  of  walking  exertion,  or  other  locomotive 
measurement,  as  part  of  the  perception  thence  arising.  The 
two  eyes  looking  at  a  footstool  bring  up,  in  like  manner,  ideas 
of  greater  or  less  remoteness  of  the  parts.  Now,  the  diffi- 
culty lies  in  explaining  '  why  two  dissimilar  pictures  projected 
on  the  two  retinae,  give  rise  to  the  perception  of  an  object  in 
relief.  'It  may  be  supposed,'  says  Wheatstone,  'that  we 
see  but  one  portion  of  a  field  of  view  at  the  same  instant, 
the  one,  namely,  to  which  the  optic  axes  are  directed,  while 
all  other  points  are  seen  so  indistinctly  that  the  mind  does 
not  recognize  them  to  be  either  single  or  double,  and  that 
the  figure  is  appreciated  by  directing  the  point  of  convergence 
of  the  optic  axes  successively  to  a  sufficient  number  of  its 
points  to  enable  us  to  judge  accurately  of  its  form.'  But 
observation  does  not  confirm  this  supposed  indistinctness  of 
those  parts  for  which  the  eyes  are  not  adjusted.  On  looking 
at  a  stereoscopic  view,  for  example,  we  find  that  we  obtain 
a  clear  and  distinct  picture  of  the  whole,  even  when  the 
eyes  are  steadily  fixed  upon  one  point,  during  which  act,  by 
the  supposition,  all  points  nearer  or  farther  ought  to  be 
confusedly  and  imperfectly  perceived.  Hence  it  is  that  Sir 
C.  Wheatstone  was  led  to  adopt  the  foregoing  view  of  a 
mental  suggestion  coming  in  to  present  a  clear  and  perfectly 
formed  idea,  notwithstanding  the  optical  fact  that,  for  many 
parts  of  the  view,  there  actually  falls  upon  the  eyes  what 
would  be  a  double  and  indistinct  image.  When  the  mind 
is  once  accustomed  to  fully  formed  views  of  all  kinds, 
these  are  revived  by  the  force  of  association,  the  main 
circumstance  for  determining  the  view  being  present — 
namely,  the  double  aspect  which  our  experience  has  always 
connected  with  a  solid  effect,  or  an  effect  where  varying 
distance  is  conjoined  with  lateral  extension.*     This  hypo- 

*  Binocular  Vision  has  been  extensively  studied  since  Wheatstone's  time 
in  Germany,  in  America,  and  at  home.  Volljmann  held  that  the  unity  of 
the  picture  is  arrived  at  by  the  mind  disregarding  the  conflicting  parts  of 
the  two  pictures,  and  attending  only  to  their  points  of  agreement.     To  him, 


BINOCULAR   VISION.  413 

thesis  appeals  to  what  is  uiidoubtedlj^  a  vera  causa  in  the 
region  of  mind. 

42.  Into  this   matter,  however,  I  do  not  enter  further 

the  dissimilarity  is  an  encumbrance  to  be  shaken  off,  an  obstacle  to  be  sur- 
mounted. Wuudt,  on  the  other  hand,  holds  that  the  dissimilarity,  far  from 
being  an  obstruction,  is  the  very  instrument  or  medium  of  our  notion  of 
solidity.  It  is  (after  variation  of  retinal  magnitude)  the  most  suggestive  of 
all  the  optical  marks  of  a  third  dimension.  The  more  pronounced  the 
dissimilarity,  the  more  emphatic  is  our  sense  of  solidity  and  varying  distance 
from  the  eye. 

In  the  remarks  on  Double  Vision  under  the  Sense  of  Sight,  I  have  pro- 
ceeded upon  this  latter  view  as  best  supported  by  evidence.  In  the  theory 
of  Volkmann,  there  appears  a  needless  anxiety  on  the  subject  of  the  double 
picture,  as  if  it  would  necessarily  distract  us  with  two  differing  representa- 
tions of  one  object.  It  is  fancied  that  each  eye  presents  a  complete  image  in 
itself,  and  that  the  mind  must  reconcile  these  two  separate  images,  before 
attaining  the  desired  unity  of  perception.  But  there  seems  to  be  a  misappre- 
hension in  so  regarding  the  question.  Each  eye  does  not  present  the  complete 
picture,  but  only  a  part  of  the  picture  ;  the  other  eye  taking  in  the  other  part. 
We  might  have  a  body  so  placed  to  the  two  eyes,  that  the  one  eye  should  ap- 
prehend one  side  and  the  other  eye  the  other  side  ;  in  which  case,  the  double 
impression  is  obviously  the  picture.  Experience  tells  us  that  an  occasion  like 
this — where  both  eyes  must  concur  to  give  the  whole  extent  of  the  picture,  or 
where  we  see  more  by  the  two  than  by  the  one — involves  a  retreating  object, 
or  the  solid  effect.  It  is  no  more  necessary  that  the  two  eyes  should  give 
two  complete  and  separate  pictures  to  the  mind,  than  that  the  two  hands, 
embracing  the  same  ball,  should  suggest  two  balls ;  or  that  the  thumb  and 
finger  grasping  a  pen  should  suggest  two  pens.  The  eyes  are  formed  to  aid 
and  supplement,  and  not  to  contradict  each  other.  In  great  distances,  each 
eye  is  sufficient  for  taking  in  the  view ;  no  addition  is  made  by  their  con- 
joint action.  This  circumstance  is  to  us  simply  a  token  of  a  far  prospect. 
The  opposite  case,  where  the  two  pictures  have  nothing  in  common,  is  inter- 
preted as  the  extreme  of  nearness  in  the  object. 

It  may  be  the  fact,  that  one  eye  takes  the  lead  in  vision,  the  other  merely 
coming  in  to  supply  the  additions  that  constitute  solid  effect ;  just  as  ia 
feeling  anything,  we  use  chiefly  the  right  hand  (or  the  left),  and  attend  to 
its  indications,  while  the  other  merely  corrects  or  adds  to  the  notion.  Our 
\isual  ideas  would  thus  be  embodied  in  the  sensation  of  one  eye,  while  the 
other,  making  no  claim,  in  the  same  individual,  to  have  its  sensation  em- 
bodied separately,  gives  that  extension  of  view  and  those  adjuncts  that  serve 
in  the  full  solid  effect.  Dr.  Carpenter  has  made  this  remark,  with  reference 
to  the  binocular  microscope.  The  observer  uses  one  eye  principally,  and,  for 
that  eye,  it  is  desirable  that  the  instrument  should  be  as  perfect  as  possible ; 
the  other  eye  has  no  further  use  than  to  bring  out  the  stereoscopic  or  tri- 
dimensional effect  (see  Sight,  p.  241). 


414  EETENTIVEXESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

than  to  remark,  that  the  same  circmnstances  that  enable  us 
to  appreciate  the  distances  of  different  objects,  enable  us 
also  to  appreciate  solid  effect,  or  the  continuity  of  an  object 
throuojh  varpng  distances.  The  definite  change  in  the 
inclination  of  the  axes,  concurring  with  a  definite  and 
proportional  change  of  the  retinal  magnitude  (the  tendency 
to  parallelism  of  the  axes  accompanpng  a  decrease  of  retinal 
magnitude),  would  suggest  the  real  width  of  a  street  to  be 
the  same  all  through  ;  upon  which,  the  diminished  picture 
gives  assurance  of  the  increasing  remoteness  of  the  successive 
parts. 

A  question  has  been  raised  as  to  our  mode  of  perceiving 
the  direction  of  an  object  from  the  eye.  On  this,  I  would 
still  repeat  that  direction  is  not  a  perception  of  sight  alone  ; 
its  very  meaning  precludes  the  supposition.  It  implies  the 
locomotive  or  other  movement  that  would  lead  us  up  to  the 
object,  or  produce  a  definite  change  in  its  appearance.  But 
there  is  a  certain  optical  effect  constantly  associated  ^dth 
the  sense  of  direction,  as  there  is  with  the  sense  of  magni- 
tude or  of  distance ;  and  this  effect  it  is  interesting,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  to  ascertain.  Xow,  it  appears  most  probable 
that  the  line  of  visible  direction  is  a  line  passing  from  the 
place  of  an  object's  impression  on  the  retina  through  the 
centre  of  the  crystalline  lens  :  *  hence,  we  associate  an  effect 
on  the  centre  of  the  retina  with  a  direction  in  the  line  of  the 
axis  of  the  eye,  while  an  impression  to  the  right  of  this  point 
would  suggest  a  position  left  of  the  axis.  But,  without  the 
experience  of  our  moving  organs  generally,  we  should  never 
know,  either  the  meaning  of  direction,  or  the  fact  that  a 
certain  impression  of  the  retina  implied  a  certain  course  for 
us  to  take  in  reference  to  the  object.  If  the  optical  law  had 
been  entirely  different — if,  for  example,  an  object  were  to 
lie  in  a  direction  inclined  45°  to  the  plane  of  its  image  in 
the  retina, — we  should  equally  well  become  acquainted  with 

*  This  line  has  been  variously  stated.  Sir  David  Brewster  affirms  that 
it  passes  through  the  centre  of  the  eye  (see  p.  216  of  a  work  entitled,  Essai 
surles  Phosphenes,  etc., par  Ic  Dr.  Serre,  Paris,  185-3). 


DIRECTION    OF    AN    OBJECT    FROM    THE    EYE.  415 

direction  :  experience  would  comiect  the  locomotive  estimate 
with  the  Tisual  impression  as  completely  as  is  done  now. 
The  question  is  very  much  of  the  same  nature  as  that  of 
inverted  vision,  formerly  discussed :  it  matters  not  where 
or  how  the  optical  effect  takes  place ;  association  connects 
the  true  perception  with  it.  In  fact,  when  we  dress  by  a 
mirror  we  perform  a  series  of  inversions,  very  difficult  at 
first,  but  in  the  end  as  easy  as  working  under  direct  vision. 

Localization  of  Bodily  Feelings. 

43.  The  localization  of  our  bodily  feehngs  presents  an 
interesting  case  of  acquired  perception.  Previous  to  ex- 
perience, we  have  no  notion  of  the  seat  of  any  local  sensa- 
tion,— for  example,  a  pain  in  the  shoulder  or  the  toe.  It 
seems  impossible  we  should  have  such  a  notion  intuitively, 
inasmuch  as  we  must  connect  an  internal  feeling  with  a 
picture  to  the  eye,  or  an  estimate  to  the  touch,  of  the  part 
where  the  feeling  arises. 

Our  own  body  is  a  thing  exposed  to  all  our  senses,  and 
to  the  sweep  of  our  movements,  like  a  table,  or  a  statue,  or 
a  fowling-piece.  The  eye  can  scan  nearly  the  whole  of  it ; 
the  hand  can  sweep  over  it ;  the  legs  can  move  over  parts  of 
it ;  the  ear  can  hear  the  somids  it  makes  ;  the  '  mouth  and 
tongue  can  co-operate  with  the  hand.  The  eyes  can  appreci- 
ate the  colour,  outline,  and  solidity ;  the  mind,  accustomed 
to  the  perception  of  size  and  distance,  can  form  an  estimate 
of  the  remoteness  of  the  parts  and  the  magnitude  of  the 
whole, — the  body's  own  various  movements  concurring  in 
the  estimate. 

So  far,  the  body  is  to  us  an  external  object ;  but  it  is  also 
the  seat  of  sensibility  of  various  kinds,  which  sensibility  we 
can  usually  refer  to  some  locality — as  the  head,  arms,  chest, 
etc.  The  question  arises.  How  do  we  come  to  have  this 
knowledge  of  locality  ?  I  answer.  By  experience  and  associa- 
tion, based  on  the  distinctness  of  the  nerve  fibres  supplied 
to  the  different  parts  (see  Touch,  p.  190).  A  pinch  in  the 
toe  is  not   sensibly  different  in  quality  from  a  pinch  in  the 


416  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

finger  ;  but,  if  both  were  happening  together,  we  should  have 
a  sensation  of  two  actions,  and  not  of  a  single  action  made 
stronger.  This  is  owing  to  the  distinctness  of  the  nerves  ; 
and,  through  this  distinctness,  we  can  form  separate  associa- 
tions with  each.  I  can  associate  one  pain  with  the  sight  of 
my  finger,  another  pain  with  the  sight  of  my  toe,  and  a  third 
with  the  position  of  my  arm  that  leads  to  the  crown  of 
the  head.  An  infant  at  the  outset  knows  not  where  to  look 
for  the  cause  of  an  irritation,  when  anything  touches  it  ;  in 
time,  it  notes  a  coincidence  between  a  feeling  and  a  pressure 
operating  on  some  one  part  ;  whence,  a  feeling  in  the  hand 
is  associated  with  the  sight  of  the  hand,  and  so  for  otlier 
members. 

When  the  feeling  is  more  internal,  as  in  the  interior  of 
the  trunk,  we  have  greater  difficulty  in  tracing  the  precise 
seat ;  often,  we  are  quite  at  a  loss  on  the  point.  In  such  a 
case,  we  have  to  trust  to  some  indications  that  come  to  the 
surface,  or  to  the  effect  of  superficial  pressure  on  the  deep 
parts.  On  receiving  a  hurt  on  the  ribs,  we  learn  to  connect 
feelings  in  the  chest  with  the  place  on  our  map  of  the  body  : 
we  can  thus  make  experiments  on  the  deap-seated  organs, 
and  learn  the  meaning  of  their  indications.  But  the  more 
inaccessible  the  parts,  the  more  uncertainty  is  there  in  assign- 
ing the  locality  of  their  sensations ;  if,  in  addition,  they  are 
not  well  supplied  with  distinctive  nerves,  the  difficulty  is  still 
greater.  The  liver,  the  spleen,  and  the  kidneys,  are  indistinct 
as  regards  the  feelings  connected  with  them.  In  those  places 
on  the  skin  where  the  sentient  units  of  nerve  are  wide  apart, — 
as  in  the  back,  the  calf  of  the  leg,  etc., — we  can  never  acquire 
a  minute  appreciation  of  locality ;  the  limit  of  distinctness 
of  the  nerve  fibres  will  be  the  limit  of  the  acquired  percep- 
tion. 

Foster,  in  discussing  the  education  of  Touch  so  as  to  make  us 
susceptible  to  finer  dilferences,  expresses  himself  as  follows,  on 
the  character  of  the  nerve  change  that  goes  along  with  the  im- 
provement :  '  The  improvement  by  exercise  of  the  sense  of  touch 
must  be  explained  not  by  an  increased  development  of  the  ter- 


ASSOCIATED    DIFFERENCES    IX    SENSATIONS.  417 

minal  organs,  not  by  a  growth  of  new  nerve  fibres  in  the  skin,  but 
by  a  more  exact  limitation  of  the  sensational  areas  in  the  train, 
as,  for  example,  by  the  development  of  a  resistance  which  limits 
the  radiation  taking  place  from  the  centres  of  the  several  areas  '. 

This  association  between  an  internal  feeling  and  the  sight 
or  touch  of  the  place  where  it  originates,  acts  reciprocally, 
and  produces  singular  effects.  Fixing  the  eye  on  a  part  of 
the  body,  as  the  hand,  and  intently  regarding  it  for  some  time, 
we  can  actually  generate  a  sensation  in  the  skin,  by  a  sort  of 
back  current :  the  idea, — which  I  conceive  to  be  a  past  experi- 
ence, revived  on  the  same  nervous  tracks, — has  a  tendency 
to  induce  the  reality.  In  the  artificial  sleep  known  as  the 
mesmeric  state,  this  influence  has  been  carried  to  great 
lengths.  Mr.  Braid  employed  it  to  induce  healthy  actions 
upon  diseased  organs,  being  able  also  to  cause  the  opposite 
effect  of  inducing  unhealthy  changes. 

The  power  of  subjectivity  to  induce  states  of  disease,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  states  of  health,  on  the  other,  is  a  large  and 
important  topic,  and  has  been  extensively  studied,  although 
without  decisive  results.  The  most  unambiguous  facts  are  those 
relating  to  the  production  of  disease  and  debility  by  excessive 
self-attention  ;  with  the  obverse  fact  of  healthy  stimulus  through 
the  operation  of  outw'ard  or  objective  regards  (see  note  E). 

Associated  differences  in  Sensations. 

44.  We  have  seen  that  discrimination  is  the  funda- 
mental property  of  the  intellect,  and  that,  in  so  far  as  we 
can  note  differences  in  our  sensations,  to  that  extent  these 
may  be  called  intellectual.  Even  in  Pleasure  and  in  Pain,  the 
nice  discrimination  of  more  or  less,  or  of  one  kind  as  com- 
pared with  another  kind,  is  so  far  intellectual.  If  one 
person  is  sensitive  to  a  small  difference  in  pleasurable  or 
painful  sensibility,  such  as  would  be  unfelt  by  another  per- 
son, the  one  may  be  said  to  be  superior  to  the  other 
intellectually.  Discrimination  is  the  groundwork  of  all 
knowledge  ;  for,  to  know  things  is  to  be  impressed  with 
their  respective  characteristic  sensations  or  impressions.    We 

27 


418  EETEXTIVENESS— LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

should  not  know  any  human  bemgs,  if  they  all  impressed 
us  alike.  A  botanist  sees  in  a  meadow  twenty  species  of 
grasses ;  an  ordinary  person  has  perhaps  remarked  three  or 
four.  As  discrimination  extends,  knowledge  and  all  its 
consequences  extend  also. 

There  is  an  important  class  of  sensations  that  in  them- 
selves, or  as  originally  felt,  are  precisely  identical,  but.  by 
taking  on  different  associations,  become  as  distinct  to  the 
mind  as  sweet  and  sour  in  taste,  acute  and  grave  in  sound, 
or.  red  and  green  in  colour.      In  the  sense  of  Touch,  for 
example,  consider  the  two  hands.     If  we  compare  the  feel- 
ing of  touch  ill  the  right  hand  with  the  same  kind  of  contact 
in  the  left,  we   find  that  they  are,   as  feelings,  seemingly 
identical.     But,  for  intellectual  purposes,  they  become  quite 
distinct  ;    they   can    sustain    totally    different    associations. 
AVith  a  touch  upon  my  left  hand,  I  associate  a  w'hole  field  of 
imagery  seen  on  my  left  side  ;  and  with  a  touch  on  my  right 
hand,  I  associate  another  set  of  imagery  in  connexion  with 
my  right  side.     If  a  person  pinches  my  right  hand,  I  incline 
my  head  and  direct  my  eyes  to  the  right ;  if  my  left  hand  is 
pinched  in  precisely  the  same  manner,  my  movements  are 
all  towards  the  left.     The  feelings  seem  identical  in  every- 
thing but  association.     This  possibility  of  suspending  differ- 
ent associations  proves  that  there  is  some  kind  of  difference 
in  the  sensations,  that  they  are  not  confounded  in  the  brain, 
though  we  may  not  trace  this  difference  in  the  immediate 
consciousness.     Association  alone  brings  it  out.* 

*  Oui"  power  of  localizing  our  feelings  of  Touch  and  Sight  has  been  ex- 
plained differently.  It  is  maintained  in  Germany  by  Lotze,  Wundt,  and  others, 
upon  the  evidence  of  experiments,  that  the  tactile  sensations  of  the  two  hands, 
and  of  the  skin  everywhere,  are  qualitatively  different,  and  that  this  difference 
of  quaUty  assists  us  greatly  in  leai'ning  to  discriminate  the  several  localities. 
To  obviate  the  objection,  from  our  not  habitually  recognizing  any  qualitative 
distinction  in  the  touches  in  different  parts  of  the  body,  it  is  remarked,  no 
doubt  with  justice,  that  we  are  so  much  concerned  habitually  with  the 
objective  perceptions,  as  no  longer  to  attend  to  the  subjective  differences. 
These  differences  may,  nevertheless,  at  an  early  stage,  have  been  sufficiently 
marked  to  form  the  basis  of  our  local  discriminations. 

In  the  case  of  Touch,  the  supporters  of  this  doctrine  find  some  difficulty 


ASSOCIATED    DIFFEEEXCES    IN    MUSCULAR    FEELIXGS.    419 

45.  The  very  same  line  of  illustration  can  be  followed 
with  the  muscular  feelings  as  with  the  forementioned 
sensations.  The  feeling  of  a  muscle  under  contraction 
has  a  uniform  character  all  over  the  body,  the  degree 
of  tension  and  all  other  circumstances  being  equal.  Not 
to  insist  on  the  case  of  the  two  arms,  or  the  two  legs,  or 
the  rotation  of  the  body  in  opposite  ways,  which  would  be 
similar   to   the   foregoing  illustration    from  touch,  we    can 

in  stating  what  is  the  kind  of  quality  whose  variation  is  perceptible  over  the 
body  generally.  But,  in  Sight,  there  is  no  such  difficulty.  It  is  laid  down,  on 
the  testimony  of  experiment,  that  the  sensibility  of  the  eye  is  locally  different 
to  colour ;  for,  if  we  cause  the  same  colour  to  pass  from  the  yellow  spot  to 
the  distant  parts  of  the  retina,  it  will  appear,  not  the  same,  but  different ; 
and  the  variation  of  shade  would  thus  be  a  mark  of  the  place  in  the  retina 
where  the  impression  falls.  We  have  here  something  definite  to  proceed 
upon.  We  can  institute  an  inquiry,  as  to  whether  the  discrimination  of 
difference  of  shades  of  colour  is  sufficiently  delicate,  to  correspond  with  the 
minuteness  of  vision  formei'ly  described. 

Some  difficulty  might  be  experienced,  under  such  an  hypothesis,  in 
explaining  how  we  should  distinguish  between  an  actual  succession  of  colours 
and  the  same  colour  passing  over  different  fibres.  I  do  not  say  that  this  is 
an  insuperable  obstacle,  if  it  could  be  shown  that  our  ability  to  distinguish 
nice  gradations  of  colour  is  such  as  to  approach  the  observed  limits  of 
fineness  of  vision.  Between  the  centre  of  the  yellow  sj)ot,  and  a  point  in 
the  retina,  say  10^  removed  from  it,  we  should  require  to  interpolate,  at  the 
very  least,  several  hundreds  of  shades  of  redness  passing  into  green  or  blue. 
I  am  not  prepared  to  affirm  that  this  is  impossible  to  the  primitive  eye ;  but 
it  is  hardly  consistent  with  our  ordinary  estimate  of  the  powers  of  the  eye, 
even  in  persons  educated  to  the  discrimination  of  colours.  Still,  the  hypo- 
thesis is  on«  that  deserves  to  be  entertained ;  it  is  in  some  respects,  perhaps, 
less  difficult  than  the  assumption  of  a  sense  of  difference  in  feelings  qualita- 
tively identical,  an  assumption  supported  only  by  its  being  adequate  to 
account  for  the  facts  of  local  discrimination. 

The  supposition  of  latent  qualitative  differences,  where  to  the  common 
apprehension  there  is  nothing  but  sameness,  must,  it  would  seem,  be  likewise 
extended  to  the  muscles.  It  would  have  to  be  shown  that  there  is  some- 
thing distinct  in  the  muscular  feelings  of  the  two  arms  exerted  exactly  in 
the  same  way.  When  muscles  are  of  very  different  magnitude  and  calibre, 
as  the  deltoid  of  the  shoulder,  the  biceps  of  the  arm,  the  diaphragm,  and  the 
orbicular  muscle  of  the  mouth,  I  can  readily  suppose  that  we  should  be 
differently  affected  by  their  contraction ;  the  difficulty  consists  in  assigning 
a  characteristic  peculiai'ity  in  ^the  feeling  of  expended  energy  in  two  muscles 
in  all  respects  resembling, — as  in  those  of  the  two  sides  of  the  body, — and  in 
others  almost  identical  in  size  and  in  form. 


420  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

suppose  a  weight  borne  by  the  arm  to  give  the  same  amount 
of  muscular  feehng  as  a  pressure  exerted  by  the  foot.  Under 
this  supposition,  two  feelings  are  produced  that  have  no 
dillerence,  either  as  regards  feeling,  or  as  stimulating  volition; 
yet,  experience  shows  that  they  are  recognized  as  distinct  by 
the  mind.  The  two  muscular  tensions  are  made  manifest  to 
the  consciousness  by  different  nerves ;  and,  on  this  fact,  the 
mind  is  able  to  build  and  maintain  distinct  associations, 
although  not  aware  of  any  difference,  either  of  quantity  or 
of  quality,  in  the  feelings  as  such.  We  have  already  called 
attention  to  the  articulate  character  of  the  sense  of  Touch, 
arising  from  the  independence  of  the  nerves  of  the  skin,  as 
distributed  over  the  general  surface.  This  remark  is  applic- 
able, also,  to  the  nerves  supplied  to  the  different  muscles. 
The  same  kind  of  feeling,  coming  from  different  parts,  is 
recognized  as  different  by  taking  on  different  associations. 
Before  any  associations  are  formed,  the  difference  is  latent ; 
after  the  growth  of  distinctive  connexions,  it  is  unmistakable. 
The  localizing  of  our  feelings — the  possibility  of  assigning  a 
locality  to  each — is  founded  on  this  distinctness  of  the 
nerves  arising  from  different  parts.  If  a  prick  in  the  leg  and 
a  prick  in  the  arm  were  as  undistinguishable  in  every  way 
as  they  are  to  the  mere  sense  of  pain,  we  should  never  be 
able  to  connect  the  one  with  our  notion  of  the  leg,  and  the 
other  with  our  notion  of  the  arm,  or  with  any  of  the  other 
distinctive  attributes  of  those  two  members. 

If  not  superfluous,  after  these  examples,  the  Eye  might 
be  adduced  to  the  same  effect.  The  place  of  the  retina 
impinged  upon  by  a  ray  of  light,  is,  in  the  main,  unimportant 
as  respects  the  feeling  of  light ;  but  there  is,  notwithstanding, 
a  real  difference  in  the  intellectual  point  of  view,  brought 
out,  as  in  the  other  cases,  by  association.  We  can  thus  dis- 
criminate right  and  left,  up  and  down,  centre  and  circum- 
ference, in  our  field  of  view,  as  soon  as  any  characteristic 
actions,  or  consequences,  become  connected  with  the  different 
portions  of  the  retina  impinged  upon  from  these  various 
outward  positions  of  the  rays  of  light.     The  retina  is,  in  this 


ACQUIRED    DISCRIMINATION.  421 

respect,  identical  with  the  skin :  it  consists  of  a  number  of 
independent  nerve  fibres,  each  transmitting  the  same  quahty 
of  impression  (unless  the  theory  of  qualitative  differences  can 
be  established),  but  to  a  distinct  region  of  the  common  centre 
of  visual  impressions,  and  so  as  to  form  the  starting-point 
of  a  perfectly  distinct  series  of  accompanying  impressions. 
A  man  at  a  telegraphic  station,  under  the  old  system  of 
signals,  saw  the  same  arm  repeated  to  his  view ;  but,  with 
its  picture  on  the  lower  part  of  the  retina  he  connected  one 
action,  on  the  upper  part  another  action.  This  is  associated 
discrimination. 

A  large  and  important  field  of  our  education  is  expres- 
sible under  the  title  of  Acquired  Difference  or  Discrimination. 
This  takes  on  two  distinct  forms ;  the  first  consists  in  improv- 
ing the  delicacy  of  the  several  senses,  which  is  one  of  the 
results  of  practice  or  experience,  and  can  occur  in  all  the  senses 
within  ascertainable  limits  It  is,  no  doubt,  a  consequence 
of  the  plastic  power  of  the  inind.  It  is  simply  the  coercing 
of  the  attention  upon  the  special  effects  of  sense,— as  in  en- 
deavouring to  detect  a  particular  shade  that  we  are  made 
aware  of  by  other  persons,  but  do  not  originally  feel  in  our- 
selves (see  note  D). 

The  other  form  of  acquired  discrimination  covers  a  very 
wide  field  of  professional  skill  and  education.  It  grows  out 
of  our  accumulated  experience  of  adjuncts  and  surroundings, 
calculated  to  make  a  much  deeper  distinction  than  appears 
to  the  eye  of  sense.  A  forged  bank  note  may  impose  upon 
ordinary  vision ;  its  detection  by  a  banker  turns  upon  nice 
peculiarities  which  have  been  specially  impressed  upon  his 
mind.  The  discrimination  of  diseases,  superficially  alike  in 
symptoms,  rests  upon  associations  stored  up  in  the  phy- 
sician's experience.  There  is  no  speciality  in  the  education 
required ;  it  is  sufiiciently  expressed  by  the  ordinary  work- 
ings of  contiguity  in  accumulating  technical  conjunctions.  * 

*  Sir  JFillUuii  Hamilton's  theory  of  the  inverse  relation  betireen  Sensation 
and  Pereeption.  This  theory  has  been  stated  by  its  author  as  follows  : — 
'  Though   a  perception   he   only  possible    under   condition  of.  a  sensation ;   still, 


422  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

ASSOCIATES   WITH   FEELING. 

46.  The  element  of  Feeling,  or  pleasure  and  pam,  viewed 
as  such,  enters  into  alliance  with  the  more  intellectual 
states  of  mind, — as,  for  example,  those  neutral  perceptions 
of  outward  things  that  we  have  just  been  considering. 
This  alliance  or  association  between  feeling  and  imagery 

above  a  certain  limit  the  more  intense  the  sensation  or  subjective  consciousness,  the 
more  indistinct  tJie  perception  or  objective  consciousness  ' .  By  the  '  sensation  '  is 
here  meant  the  feeling,  as  regards  pleasure  or  pain  ;  by  the  '  perception '  I 
understand  what  is  termed  above  the  intellectual  discrimination :  the  dijSer- 
ence  is  like  that  between  the  excitement  of  a  blaze  of  sunshine  and  the 
discrimination  of  two  natural  history  specimens.  These  two  effects  Sir 
William  Hamilton  believes  to  be  inverse  to  one  another ;  that  is,  in  propor- 
tion as  the  one  is  strong  the  other  is  weak.  I  am  disposed  to  admit  the  truth 
of  this  doctrine  to  a  very  considerable  extent.  But  it  appears  to  me  that  the 
facts  as  to  the  relation  of  these  two  qualities — the  emotional,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  intellectual,  on  the  other — show  a  greater  degree  of  complexity  than 
this  law  expresses,  even  although  it  be  correct  as  to  the  prevailing  character 
of  the  relation. 

The  following  extract  contains  the  statement  of  the  facts  adduced  in 
support  of  this  theory  by  its  author : — '  If  we  take  a  survey  of  the  senses,  we 
shall  find,  that  exactly  in  proportion  as  each  affords  an  idiopathic  sensation 
more  or  less  capable  of  being  carried  to  an  extreme  either  of  pleasure  or  of  pain, 
does  it  afford,  but  iu  an  inverse  ratio,  the  condition  of  an  objective  perception 
more  or  less  distinct.  In  the  senses  of  Sight  and  Hearing,  as  contrasted  with 
those  of  Taste  and  Smell,  the  counter  proportions  are  j^recise  and  manifest 
and  precisely  as  in  animals  these  latter  senses  gain  in  their  objective  character 
as  means  of  knowledge,  do  they  lose  in  their  subjective  character  as  sources  of 
pleasurable  or  painful  sensations.  To  a  dog,  for  instance,  in  whom  the  sense 
of  smeU  is  so  acute,  all  odours  seem,  in  themselves,  to  be  indifferent.  In 
Touch  or  Feeling  the  same  analogy  holds  good,  and  within  itself ;  for,  in  this 
case,  where  the  sense  is  diffused  throughout  the  body,  the  subjective  and 
objective  vary  in  their  proportions  at  different  parts.  The  parts  most  subjec- 
tively sensible,  those  chiefly  susceptible  of  pain  and  pleasure,  furnish  precisely 
the  obtusest  organs  of  touch  ;  and  the  acutest  organs  of  touch  do  not  possess, 
if  ever  even  that,  more  than  an  average  amount  of  subjective  sensibility.  .  .  . 
The  experiments  of  Weber  have  shown,  how  differently  in  degree  different 
parts  of  the  skin  possess  the  power  of  touch  proper ;  this  power,  as  measured 
by  the  smallness  of  the  interval  at  which  the  blunted  points  of  a  pair  of  com- 
passes, brought  into  contact  with  the  skin,  can  be  discriminated  as  double, 
varying  from  the  twenty-fourth  of  an  English  inch  at  the  tip  of  tlie  tongue,  and 
a  tenth  on  the  volar  surface  of  the  third  finger,  to  two  inches  and  a  half  over 
the  greater  part  of  the  neck,  back,  arms,  and  thighs.  If  these  experiments 
be  repeated  with  a  pair  of  compasses  not  very  obtuse,  and  capable,  therefore, 


OBJECTS   WITH   FEELINGS.  428 

gives  rise  to  a  number  of  interesting  phenomena,  some  of 
which  may  be  introduced  here,  as  presenting  a  new  case  of 
the  associating  process. 

In  the  pleasures  and  pains  derived  through  the  various 
senses  and  through  the  moving  organs,  there  spring  up 
associations  with  collateral  things,  the  causes   or  frequent 

by  a  slight  pressure,  of  exciting  a  sensation  in  the  skin,  it  will  be  found,  that 
whilst  Weber's  observations,  as  to  the  remarkable  difierence  of  the  different 
parts  in  the  power  of  tactile  discrimination,  are  correct ;  that,  at  the  same 
time,  what  he  did  not  observe,  there  is  no  corresponding  difference  between 
the  parts  in  their  sensibility  to  superficial  pricking,  scratching,  etc.  On  the 
contrary,  it  will  be  found  that,  in  the  places  where,  objectively,  touch  is  most 
alive,  subjectively  feeling  is,  in  the  first  instance  at  least,  in  some  degree  dead- 
ened ;  and  that  the  parts  the  most  obtuse  in  discriminating  the  duplicity  of 
the  touching  points,  are  b}-  no  means  the  least  acute  to  the  sensation  excited 
by  their  pressure. 

'For  example; — The  tip  of  the  tongue  has  fifty,  the  inferior  surface  of 
the  third  finger  ticentij-five,  times  the  tactual  discrimination  of  the  arm.  But 
it  will  be  found,  on  trial,  that  the  arm  is  more  sensitive  to  a  sharp  point 
applied,  but  not  strongly,  to  the  skin,  than  either  the  tongue  or  the  finger, 
and  (depilated  of  course)  at  least  as  alive  to  the  presence  of  a  very  light  body, 
as  a  hair,  a  thread,  a  feather,  drawn  along  the  surface.  In  the  several  places 
the  phaenomena  thus  vary  : — In  those  parts  where  touch  proper  prevails,  a 
subacute  point,  lightly  pressed  upon  the  skin,  determines  a  sensation  of  which 
we  can  hardly  predicate  either  pain  or  pleasure,  and  nearly  limited  to  the 
place  on  which  the  pressure  is  made,'  etc.  (Edition  of  Reid,  p.  863). 

On  these  last  experiments,  I  would  remark,— first,  that  the  tongue  is 
scarcely  a  fair  subject  of  comparison  with  the  skin,  seeing  that  the  two 
tissues  are  not  of  the  same  nature — a  matter  of  considerable  importance  as 
regards  a  pleasurable  or  painful  irritation ;  and,  therefore,  the  fairest  mode 
of  conducting  the  trial  is  skin  with  skin. 

Secondly,  if  trial  were  made  of  the  cheek  compared  with  the  other  parts, 
the  inverse  proportion  contended  for  would  not  hold  good.  To  a  prick,  or  a 
smart  blow,  the  cheek  is  at  least  as  sensitive  as  any  portion  of  the  skin  what- 
ever ;  but  it  is  certainly  not  the  least  discriminating  in  Weber's  scale.  In 
fact,  it  stands  high  in  the  scale,  being  equal  to  the  palm  of  the  hand  and  the 
extremity  of  the  great  toe,  and  inferior  only  to  the  tongue,  lips,  and  fingers. 
In  this  case,  therefore,  the  inverse  ratio  of  sensibility  and  discrimination  does 
not  subsist. 

Taking  the  cheek  and  the  back  of  the  hand  as  compared  with  the  palm 
of  the  hand,  one  would  be  disposed  to  say  that  the  sensitiveness  to  pain  varied 
with  the  structure  of  the  cuticle,  while  the  discrimination  depends  solely  on 
the  supply  of  nerves.  Let  the  cuticle  be  thickened,  as  in  the  hand  and  foot, 
and  the  parts  are  rendered  obtuse  to  a  blow.     But,  where  the  cuticle  is  thin,  the 


424  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

accompaniments  of  those  feelings.  Thus,  we  connect  the 
pleasures  of  repose  with  an  easy  chair,  a  sofa,  or  a  bed,  and 
the  pleasures  of  riding  witlj  a  horse  and  carriage.  The  sight 
of  food  recalls  a  certam  part  of  the  pleasure  of  eating.  The 
preparation  of  meals  and  the  catering  for  the  table  are  inter- 
esting avocations,  through  a  reference  to  the  end  they  serve. 
The  representation  to  the  eye  of  fragrant  flowers  in  a  paint- 
ing, has  power  to  revive  some  of  the  pleasures  that  we  gain 
from  the  reality  through  the  sense  of  smell.  The  pleasures 
of  music,  in  so  far  as  they  can  be  enjoyed  in  the  retrospect, 
are  evoked  by  association. 

We  have  seen  that  it  is  a  quality  of  some  feelings  to  be 
more  recoverable  ni  idea  than  others.  For  example,  the 
pleasures  of  music  and  of  spectacle  are  recovered  from  the 
past  more  completely  than  the  pleasures  of  exercise,  repose, 
waiiuth,  or  repletion.  When  those  higher  feelings  are  re- 
vived, by  means  of  association,  a  much  greater  approach  is 
made  to  the  intensity  of  the  actual  experience. 

47.  It  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  select  a  few  examples 

skin  is  correspondingly  tender  or  susceptible  to  painful  or  pleasurable  irrita- 
tion. This  is  a  popular  belief,  whether  scientifically  true  or  not.  Any  one 
keenly  alive  to  a  smart  or  an  attack  is  said  to  be  fMn-skinncd.  In  addition 
to  this,  I  am  disposed  to  believe  that  the  parts  nearest  the  brain  are  in  con- 
sequence more  sensitive  than  remote  parts.  The  agonies  of  toothache,  face- 
ache,  pains  of  the  nose  and  ear,  appear  to  be  more  intense  than  would  arise 
from  similar  irritations  in  the  lower  extremities.  If  this  be  a  general  rule, 
the  skin  of  the  face  would  be  more  sensitive  than  the  skin  of  the  arm  or  the 
hand,  and  these  more  than  the  leg  or  foot. 

In  so  far  as  the  differences  of  sensibility  and  discrimination  depend  on 
the  miyid,  Sir  W.  Hamilton's  theory  of  inverse  relation  is  more  strictly 
applicable.  It  is  to  me  quite  evidert  that,  if  the  whole  mind  and  attention 
be  concentrated  on  the  sensation  as  a  feeling,  as  giving  pleasure  or  pain, 
there  will  be  a  lack  of  attention  to  the  intellectual  quality.  But,  then,  it  is 
possible  that  the  mind  should  be  awake  to  both  qualities,  and  to  the  one  for 
the  sake  of  the  other.  This  is  true  within  certain  limits  of  intensity  of 
sensation  (see  p.  105). 

Mr.  Spencer  has  criticized  Hamilton's  doctrine  {Fiychology,  vol.  ii.  p.  248), 
and  has  summed  up  the  result  in  the  following  sentence  :— '  Generalizing  the 
facts,  then,  it  would  seem,  not  that  Sensation  and  Perception  vary  inversely, 
but  that  they  exclude  each  other  with  degrees  of  stringency  which  vary  in- 
versely '. 


THE    EMOTIONS    BECOME    AFFECTIONS.  425 

of  the  association  of  the  deeper  emotions  of  the  mind  with 
the  notions  that  we  have  of  outward  things ;  by  which  con- 
nexion these  emotions  also  can  be  made  present  in  the 
absence  of  their  proper  stimuhis.  The  emotions  of  Tender- 
ness, Self-complacency,  Irascibility,  Terror,  etc.,  when 
stimulated  repeatedly  in  the  presence  of  some  one  object, 
enter  into  mental  partnership  with  that  object ;  and  the 
two  individuals  of  the  couple  are  thenceforth  able  to  revive 
each  other,  the  object  recalling  the  emotion,  and  the  emo- 
tion restoring  the  object. 

The  emotion  of  Natural  Tenderness  is  brought  out  chiefly 
towards  sentient  beings,  and,  after  a  time,  arises  habitually 
in  connexion  with  certain  persons  or  living  creatures,  who 
are  then  said  to  be  objects  of  affection  or  attachment.  The 
feeling,  moreover,  overflows  upon  places  and  things,  insti- 
gating a  tender  regard  towards  inanimate  nature.  The 
associations  with  home,  with  one's  native  spot,  with  the 
tokens  of  friendship  and  the  relics  of  the  departed,  are  made 
powerful  by  all  the  causes  that  give  force  to  the  contiguous 
bond.  The  natural  abundance  of  the  emotion  in  the 
character,  repetition,  a  good  natural  adhesiveness,  the  dis- 
position to  cultivate  this  peculiar  region  of  associations — all 
contribute  to  strengthen  the  link  that  enables  persons  or 
things  to  diffuse  tender  feeling  over  the  mind.  AVe  may 
suppose  some  mental  constitutions  to  have  a  natural 
retentiveness  for  special  emotions,  just  as  there  are  intellects 
retentive  of  visible  pictures,  music,  or  language  ;  this  reten- 
tiveness not  being  identical  with  the  strength  of  the  emotion 
in  the  reality.  Such  persons  would  be  peculiarly  qualified 
to  cultivate  associated  feeling — to  derive  pleasure  from  the 
relics  and  the  memory  of  affection,  and  to  make  this  pleasure 
an  object  of  pursuit  in  life. 

The  illustration  for  objects  of  hatred  and  aversion,  and 
for  all  the  outgoings  of  the  Irascible  passion,  would  be  an 
exact  parallel.  This  passion  connects  itself  with  persons, 
with  places,  things,  events,  etc.  ;  and  may  then  be  revived 
by  objects  that  of  themselves  have  no  original  power  to  stir 


426  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

it  up.  AYe  are  apt  to  feel  an  aversion  to  places  where  we 
have  suffered  deep  injuries,  and  to  the  unwitting  instruments 
of  calaniit}^  and  wrong. 

Egotistic  and  Selfish  emotion  diffuses  itself  over  all 
matters  related  to  self ;  and  the  objects  that  a  man  surrounds 
himself  with,  come  to  reflect  the  sense  of  his  dignity  and 
importance.  According  as  this  feeling  is  indulged,  associa- 
tions grow  up  between  it  and  a  great  variety  of  things. 
Possessions,  office,  the  fruits  of  one's  labour,  the  symbols  of 
rank,  are  all  overgrown  with  this  connexion,  and  radiate 
the  feelings  of  self-complacency  and  importance  to  the 
mind.  The  members  of  one's  family  are  objects,  not  simply 
of  tender  affection,  but  of  affection  and  egotism  combined. 
So  with  friends,  and  with  all  the  objects  of  our  habitual 
admiration.  It  is  impossible  to  be  in  the  constant  practice 
of  loving  or  admiring  anything,  without  coming  at  last  to 
connect  the  object  with  self ;  the  disinterested  emotion  that 
first  attracts  us  to  persons  becomes,  by  indulgence,  interested 
affection. 

48.  The  pleasure  of  money  is  a  remarkable  instance  of 
associated  feeling.  The  sum  total  of  purchasable  enjoyments 
becomes  linked  in  the  mind  with  the  universal  medium  of 
purchase,  and  this  medium  grows  into  an  end  of  pursuit.  In 
the  first  instance,  we  are  stimulated  by  these  other  pleasures  ; 
but  an  affection  is  often  generated  at  last  for  money  itself. 
This  transfer  is  brought  about  when  we  allow  ourselves  to  be 
so  engrossed  with  the  -pursuit  of  wealth,  that  we  rarely  advert 
to  the  remote  ends  or  the  purchasable  pleasures  ;  the  mind 
dwelling  solely  on  the  one  object  that  measures  the  success  of 
our  endeavours.  A  moderate  pursuit  of  gain  that  leaves  the 
mind  free  to  dwell  upon  the  pleasures  and  advantages  that 
money  is  to  bring,  does  not  generate  that  intense  affection 
for  gold  as  an  end  constituting  the  extreme  form  of  sordid 
avarice. 

We  may  extend  the  survey  to  Utility  on  the  great  scale, 
and  shall  find  innumerable  examples  of  strong  feeling  gener- 
ated through  Association.     The  most  striking  aspect  in  this 


ASSOCIATES   WITH   UTILITY.  427 

operation  is  presented  by  all  the  various  means  of  deliverance 
from  pain.  In  proportion  to  the  degree  and  continuance  of 
a  painful  experience,  is  the  reaction  growing  out  of  its  present 
alleviation  or  removal  and  the  security  against  its  recurrence. 
The  impressiveness  of  such  experiences  is  the  very  maximum 
of  aids  to  intellectual  retention,  with  which  comes  re- 
membered satisfaction  or  acute  pleasure.  This  is,  no  doubt, 
the  greatest  influence  in  developing  the  pleasures  of  pro- 
perty and  power,  as  the  greatest  securities  for  worldly 
sufficiency  and  the  absence  of  privations. 

The  chief  anomaly  in  the  growcli  of  intense  avariciousness  is 
the  fact,  sometimes  encountered,  of  its  being  present  in  minds  that 
have  never  passed  through  the  phase  of  penury  or  privation.  The 
consideration  of  such  cases  might  lead  us  to  dwell  more  upon  the 
egotistic  phase  of  wealth  in  gi\'ing  power,  importance,  and,  it  may 
be,  the  means  of  beneficent  outgoings — all  which  are  associates 
sufficiently  strong  to  operate  successfully  without  the  aid  of  fore- 
gone privation.  As  minds  differ  in  all  these  various  suscepti- 
bilities, so  do  the  sources  and  supports  of  avarice  also  differ ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  passion  may  be  quelled  or  en- 
feebled or  diverted  by  other  powerful  tendencies  of  the  mind, 
and,  more  especially,  the  sympathies  or  altruism  of  the  character. 

Another  example  of  an  association  displacing  the  original 
source  and  purpose  of  a  feeling,  is  seen  in  connexion  with  the 
forms  of  business.  Book-keeping,  legal  formalities,  and 
technical  procedure,  are  intended  as  aids  to  the  transaction  of 
business.  In  themselves  nothing,  they  have  a  great  value  in 
furthering  our  substantial  ends;  and  we  contract  a  sentiment 
towards  them  on  that  ground.  As  with  money,  however,  this 
reflected  interest  sometimes  detaches  itself  from  the  original 
ends  ;  and  we  take  a  pleasure  in  maintaining  formalities  that 
time  and  change  have  reduced  to  an  empty  letter. 

Among  the  numerous  examples  of  well-formed  associa- 
tions with  objects  of  utility,  such  as  to  rank  among  the 
standing  interests  of  life,  we  may  cite  fondness  for  accurate 
timekeepers  by  men  like  the  Duke  of  Wellington  who  have 


428  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

"had  to  adjust  and  fit  together  vast  and  complicated  opera- 
tions ;  an  association  also  fostered  in  the  days  of  railway 
communication  with  those  that  have  frequent  occasion  to 
travel.  Another  striking  instance  of  associated  effects  may 
be  seen  in  the  pleasure  of  polished  surfaces,  and  the  repug- 
nance to  rust  and  roughness — the  one  associated  with  easy 
motion  in  inachinery,  the  other  with  obstruction  and  diffi- 
culty. The  circumstance  of  noiselessness  in  machines  is 
similarly  gratifying ;  while  a  grating  sound  pains  both  the 
primary  susceptibility  of  the  ear  and  the  secondary  feelings 
connected  with  mal-adjustment  and  difficulty. 

Inasmuch  as  ill  health  is  the  cause  of  a  large  portion  of 
human  suffering,  the  signs  and  symptoms  of  robustness  on 
the  one  hand  and  disease  on  the  other,  become  highly  sug- 
gestive of  pleasurable  and  painful  feeling.  The  result  may 
be  interfered  with  by  aesthetic  suggestion,  which  does  not 
always  coincide  with  what  is  healthy  and  vigorous  in  form 
and  appearance. 

49.  Alisonian  Theory  of  Beauty. — This  celebrated  doctrine  exemplifies 
the  case  of  contiguous  association  now  in  hand,  in  so  far  as  we  are  dis- 
posed to  admit  the  application  that  its  author  makes  of  it.  That  he  has 
carried  his  theory  of  associated  pleasure  too  far  might,  I  think,  be 
shown  in  numerous  instances.  We  have  already  seen  that  all  the 
senses  yield  us  sensations  that  are  in  themselves  pleasm-able,  without 
reference  to  any  associated  effect.  There  are  fragrant  odours,  sweet 
sounds,  and  pleasing  effects  of  light  and  colour,  in  which  the  pleasiu"e 
is  owing  to  a  direct  and  immediate  action  of  the  objects  iipon  the 
organs  of  sense  ;  and  these  pleasurable  feelings  never  fail  to  be  produced 
when  we  are  in  a  condition  to  enjoy  them.  There  would  be  nothing 
permanently  or  generally  pleasing,  if  we  had  not  a  certain  number  df 
such  primary  sources  of  enjoyment. 

But  tlie  doctrine  of  Alison  satisfactorily  explains  the  strong  effects 
often  produced  on  our  minds  by  sensations  and  objects,  in  themselves 
indifferent,  or  wholly  unequal  to  those  effects.  A  few  instances  of  this 
sort  may  be  quoted  as  true  examples  of  borrowed  or  associated  emotion. 
Take  the  case  of  sounds:  'All  sounds,'  says  Alison,  '  are  in  general 
SUBLIME,  which  are  associated  with  ideas  of  great  Power  or  Might  :  the 
Noise  of  a  Torrent ;  the  Fall  of  a  Cataract ;  the  Uproar  of  a  Tempest ; 
the  Explosion  of  Gunpowder  ;  the  Dashing  of  the  Waves,  etc'     Most  of 


ASSOCIATION   THEORY   OF   BEAUTY   AND    SUBLIMITY.      429 

these  sounds,  however,  are  intrinsically  impressive  from  their  intensity 
and  volume,  and  the  effect  that  they  have  on  the  mind  is  not  wholly  due 
to  association.  The  following  is  a  better  selection  for  the  purpose  in 
hand :  — '  That  the  Notes  or  Cries  of  some  Animals  are  Sublime,  every 
one  knows  ;  the  Roar  of  the  Lion,  the  Growling  of  Bears,  the  Howling  of 
"Wolves,  the  Scream  of  the  Eagle,  etc.  In  all  these  cases,  those  are  the 
notes  of  animals  remarkable  for  their  strength,  and  formidable  from 
their  ferocity.'  In  like  manner,  the  author  exemplifies  associations  with 
the  feeling^  of  Beauty,  as  follows  : — 'The  Bleating  of  a  Lamb  is  beautiful 
in  a  fine  day  in  spring  ;  the  Lowing  of  a  Cow  at  a  distance,  amid  the 
scenery  of  a  pastoral  landscape  in  summer.  The  call  of  a  Goat  among 
rocks  is  strikingly  beautiful,  as  expressing  wildness  and  independence. 
The  Hum  of  the  Beetle  is  beautiful  on  a  fine  summer  evening  as  appear- 
ing to  suit  the  stillness  and  repose  of  that  pleasing  season.  The  Twitter 
of  the  Swallow  is  beautiful  in  the  morning,  and  seems  to  be  expressive 
of  the  cheerfuhiess  of  that  time.  A  similar  illustration  can  be  derived 
from  Colours  and  appearances  to  the  eye.'  The  impressive  emotion 
roused  by  the  discharge  of  thunder  can  be  evoked  by  the  transient  flash 
in  the  window— an  effect  in  itself  very  trivial,  but  able  to*  recall  the 
gi'ander  features  of  the  phenomenon,  and,  through  these,  the  emotion  of 
the  Sublime.  The  relics  of  a  storm,  seen  in  the  disorder  and  wreck, 
revive  the  feeling  impressed  by  the  height  of  its  fury.  The  language 
that  describes  such  phenomena,  when  aptly  used,  can  arouse  the  emotions 
purely  by  the  force  of  association. 

Alison  extends  the  illustration  of  his  doctrine  to  Forms  and  Motions, 
as  well  as  to  sounds  and  coloiu's,  and  supplies  examples  in  great  abund- 
ance under  all  these  heads.  I  believe  he  has  here  too,  in  manj'  in- 
stances, set  down  intrmsic  effects  as  the  effects  of  association  ;  but, 
nevertheless,  he  has  put  it  beyond  dispute,  that  the  associating  principle 
operates  largely  in  clothing  indifferent  objects  with  a  power  to  raise  emo- 
tion in  the  mind  of  the  beholder. 

There  is,  I  am  satisfied,  a  primitive  influence  in  form  to  produce  a 
certain  amount  of  emotion,  of  the  kind  that  enters  into  the  compositions 
of  Art.  Curved  forms  and  winding  movements  yield,  of  themselves,  a 
certain  satisfaction  through  the  muscular  sensibility  of  the  eye.  Yet, 
we  must  add  to  this  original  impressiveness  an  influence  of  association  ; 
namely,  the  connexion  of  ease  and  abandon  with  the  curve  Ime,  and  of 
constraint  with  the  straight  line.  The  free  natviral  movements  of  the 
arm  make  circular  figures  :  to  draw  a  straight  Ime  requires  an  effort. 

.50.  The  Reading  of  Emotional  Expression. — An  interesting 
case  of  associated  feeling  is  our  being  able  to  interpret  the 
signs  of  feeling  in  our  fellow-beings — by  which  we  are  not 


430  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    COXTIGUITY. 

merely  made  aware  of  their  state  of  mind,  but  also  derive  a 
large  amomit  of  painful  and  pleasurable  feeling  to  ourselves. 
The  influence  of  the  smile  or  the  frown,  so  powerful  in 
human  life,  is  apparently  an  associated  influence.  There  is 
nothing  intrinsic  in  the  lines  and  forms  of  feature,  displayed 
in  the  act  of  smiling,  to  cause  the  pleasure  occasioned  by  this 
manifestation.  Incidentally,  fine  forms  and  curves  may  be 
produced  in  a  face,  and  there  may  be  a  display  of  beautiful 
tints  over  and  above ;  but,  when  these  things  occur,  they 
constitute  an  additional  pleasure. 

The  meaning  of  a  smile,  together  with  the  susceptibility 
to  the  cheering^influence  of  it,  are  supposed  to  be  learnt 
among  the  early  acquisitions  of  infancy.  The  child  observes 
that  this  expression  accompanies  the  substantial  pleasures 
that  need  no  association  to  give  them  their  character.  The 
smile  of  the  parent,  or  of  the  nurse,  means  all  the  agreeables 
of  food,  dress,  play,  spectacle,  excitement,  society.  The 
frown  is  as  invariably  connected  with  privation  and  pains. 
An  enduring  association  thus  comes  to  obtain  between  one 
cast  of  features  and  all  the  good  things  of  life,  and  between 
another  expression  and  the  ills  that  human  power  can  inflict ; 
and,  hence,  the  one  is  able  to  diffuse  a  gladdening  influence, 
while  the  other  tends  to  excite  a  feeling  of  depression  and 
gloom.  All  through  life,  we  are  subject  to  these  influences  of 
associated  emotion.  So,  there  are  tones  of  voice  that,  in  the 
same  way,  can  cause  pleasure  or  pain  by  a  power  of  sugges- 
tion. In  this  case,  however,  there  is  a  certain  intrinsic 
eflicacy  in  the  tones  usually  adopted  to  convey  the  intended 
effect.  For  conveying  love  and  approbation,  we  choose  our 
soft  and  gentle  tones  ;  for  the  opposite,  we  are  led,  both  by 
passion  and  by  choice,  to  use  tones  that  are  painful  and 
grating.  There  is  no  original  or  intrinsic  difference  of  effect 
between  pleased  and  angry  features;  but,  in  vocal  utterance, 
there  is  a  manifest  suitability  of  some  tones  for  pleasing 
expression,  and  of  others  for  the  reverse. 

The  difficulty  already  noticed  (see  the  Higheb  Instincts)  in 


READING    OF   EMOTIONAL    EXPRESSION.  431 

accounting  for  the  early  development  of  the  infant  susceptibility 
to  the  smile  and  the  frown  must  so  far  qualify  the  foregoing 
statements  as  to  couple  hereditary  experience  with  the  experience 
of  the  lifetime.  The  affirmation  still  holds  good,  that  a  process 
of  coupling  between  two  distinct  classes  of  facts  must  have 
occurred  through  our  natural  power  of  retentiveness.  Any  other 
supposition  is  unsupported  by  evidence  or  probability.  In  adopt- 
ing the  doctrine  of  heredity,  or  hereditary  transmission,  as  the 
explanation  of  Instinct,  we  still  adhere  to  the  notion  of  ex- 
perience,— as  opposed  to  a  primary  power  of  suggestion,  whereby 
one  sense  can  reveal  what  belongs  to  another  (see  note  F). 

The  great  problem  of  Instinct,  as  against  Acquisition,  in  this 
or  in  any  other  department,  could  be  reduced  to  narrower  dimen- 
sions, if  we  had  the  means  of  correctly  estimating  the  pace  of 
acquirement  at  the  period  of  life  open  to  examination.  If  we 
could  reduce  to  some  assignable  measure  the  length  of  time 
needed  for  acquiring  a  given  emotional  association,  and  if  we 
could  compare  the  strength  of  such  association  with  the  earliest 
displays  of  emotional  reading  in  infancy,  we  might  draw  a 
confident  inference  as  to  the  necessity  of  some  hereditary  initia- 
tion in  those  cases.  The  point  may  be  too  subtle  for  such  deli- 
cate handling ;  yet,  the  disparity  is  possibly  great  enough  to 
dispose  of  any  doubt  as  to  the  inadequacy  of  life  experience  for 
the  purpose. 

It  is  a  part  of  our  pleasure  to  see  happy  beings  around 
us,  and  especially  those  that  have  the  power  of  expressing 
their  feelings  in  a  Kvely  manner.  Children  and  animals, 
m  their  happy  moods,  impart  a  certain  tone  of  gaiety  to  a 
spectator.  On  the  other  hand,  the  wretched,  the  down.cast, 
and  the  querulous,  are  apt  to  chill  and  depress  those  in  their 
company.  There  is  a  satisfaction  in  merely  beholding,  or 
even  in  imagining,  the  appearances  and  accompaniments  of 
superior  happiness — which  probably  accomits  in  part  for  the 
disposition  to  do  homage  to  the  wealth}',  the  powerful,  the 
renowned,  and  the  successful  among  mankind. 

Associated  emotion  is  the  medium  of  sympathy  with  the 
feelings  of  others.  AVe  have  to  acquire  the  signs  of  feeling, 
in  order  to  make  the  states  of  others  our  own.     We  learn 


432  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

the  natural  appearances  of  the  different  emotions,  and  also 
the  names  that  describe  them — which  appearances  and  names 
are  the  medimn  for  realizing  them.  As  in  all  else,  there 
are  great  individual  differences  of  progress  in  this  acquire- 
ment and  corresponding  differences  in  the  power  of  sym- 
pathy. 

Among  the  associations  of  Feeling,  we  should  not  omit 
the  important  sentiments  of  moral  approbation  o^ndi  moral  dis- 
approbation. These  are  admitted  on  all  hands  to  be  greatly 
the  result  of  education  ;  indeed,  the  fact  is  too  notorious  to 
be  controverted.  The  well-trained  child  constantly  finds 
certain  acts  spoken  of  with  marked  disapprobation,  and 
visited  with  pain,  which  gives  to  disapprobation  its  mean- 
ing ;  and  there  grows  up,  as  a  consequence,  a  strong  associa- 
tion between  those  actions  and  the  feelings  of  dread  and 
aversion.  A  high  motive  power  is  thus  generated  for 
abstaining  from  lying,  theft,  cruelty,  neglect  of  studies,  and 
other  forbidden  acts.  This  is  one  side  of  our  moral  educa- 
tion. The  other  side  is,  in  like  manner,  a  series  of  associa- 
tions between  certain  actions  and  praise,  approval,  or 
reward ;  and  these  determine  the  acquired  sentiment  of 
moral  approbation.  How  little  of  either  of  the  two  modes 
is  to  be  found  where  nothing  has  been  done  to  impress  them, 
is  best  known  to  persons  that  concern  themselves  with  the 
outcasts  of  society. 

The  rate  of  advancement  in  moral  training  depends  on 
several  circumstances.  In  the  first  place,  the  energy  of  the 
impulses  that  trespass  against  the  laws  of  society  may  be 
strong,  or  they  may  be  weak,  by  nature.  But,  secondly,  a 
still  greater  importance  is  to  be  attached  to  the  aptitude  for 
vividly  retaining  the  penalties,  and  expressed  disapproba- 
tion, of  wrong.  This  memory  for  good  and  evil  appears  to 
be  a  special,  or  local,  mode  of  retentiveness,  as  much  so  as 
colour  or  music  :  it  does  not  always  accompany  high  intellect 
generally ;  and  it  is  occasionally  strong,  when  the  power  of 
recollection  in  other  things  is  weak.  It  belongs,  no  doubt, 
to  the  same   circle  of  sensibilities  that    includes    our  pru- 


MORAL   APPROBATION   AND   DISAPPROBATION.  433 

dential  and  our  sympathetic  regards.  For,  both  prudence 
and  sympathy  must  concur  to  a  well  developed  moral  sense. 
There  are  many  of  our  strong  likings,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  strong  antipathies,  on  the  other,  that  come  under  the 
class  of  reflected  influences.  The  sight  of  blood  affects  some 
persons  to  fainting — which  cannot  be  owing  to  anything  in 
the  mere  appearance  of  it ;  apart  from  association,  the  rich 
scarlet  hue  would  make  this  a  really  agreeable  object  to  the 
eye. 

ASSOCIATIONS   OF   VOLITION. 

51.  I  have  already  adverted  to  the  mistake,  committed 
by  Eeid,  in  pronouncing  the  voluntary  command  of  our 
limbs  and  other  moving  organs  instinctive.  If  we  observe 
the  movements  of  infancy,  we  see  plainly  that,  for  many 
months,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  command  of  the  active 
members,  in  obedience  to  an  aim  or  purpose  present  to  the 
mind.  An  infant  may  have  sufficient  intelligence  to  form  a 
wish,  and  be  quite  unable  to  execute  the  simplest  movements 
for  attaining  the  thing  wished.  A  common  example  of  this 
is  the  attempt  to  seize  something  with  the  hand, — as  a  spoon. 
We  see  the  most  awkward  movements  occurring, — evidently 
from  the  entire  want  of  any  definite  direction  of  the  limbs 
at  that  stage.  This  definite  direction  is  acquired  ;  and  the 
acquisition  is  the  most  laborious  and  diflicult  of  all  human 
attainments.  The  performance  of  the  simple  movements 
that  we  wish  to  perform,  is  the  basis  of  our  acquirement  of 
more  complex  movements  at  a  subsequent  stage ;  but  our 
first  education  is  self-education.  Until  a  child  can,  of  its  own 
accord,  put  out  its  hand  and  seize  an  object  before  its  eyes — 
which  for  the  first  few  months  it  cannot  do, — any  attempt 
to  direct  it  is  in  vain ;  and,  until,  of  its  own  accord,  it  can 
move  its  own  body  as  it  sees  something  else  moved,  it  has 
not  begun  to  be  an  educable  being. 

The  voluntary  command  of  the  organs  implies  the  fol- 
lowing things.  1st,  The  power  of  continuing  or  abating  a 
present  movement  in  obedience  to  a  present  feeling, — as  when 

28 


434  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

the  child  sucks  while  the  appetite  is  gratified,  and  ceases 
when  satiety  comes  on.  So  far,  Volition  is  an  Instinct. 
2ndlv,  The  power  of  selecting  a  movement  in  order  to 
heighten  or  abate  a  present  feeling, — as  when  the  child 
directs  its  head  and  mouth  to  seize  the  nipple,  and  begins 
suckinsf.  There  mav  be  a  few  instances  of  instinctive 
movements  of  this  kind  ;  but,  in  general,  they  are  acquired, 
being  determined  by  means  of  association.  The  coincidence 
of  the  movement  and  the  feeling  must  be  at  first  accidental. 
As  the  movement  springs  up  of  its  own  accord,  and  finds 
itself  able  to  control  the  feeling,  the  two  become  after  a 
time  so  firmly  connected  that  the  one  suggests  the  other. 
Thus,  the  movement  of  the  eyes  and  head  is  at  first 
spontaneous  ;  but  the  agreeable  feelings  of  light  brought  on 
by  these  movements  prompt  then-  continuance,  and  the 
pleasure  grows  to  be  associated  with  these  movements : 
whereupon,  when  this  feeling  is  present  to  the  mind  as 
a  wish,  it  prompts  the  requisite  exertions.  Thus  it  is  that 
a  child  learns  to  search  out  a  light  in  a  room,  in  order  to 
enjoy  the  maximum  of  the  illumination ;  it  learns  to  turn  its 
view  to  the  fire,  or  the  window,  or  to  some  face  that  it  has 
begun  to  recognize  agreeably.  Volition  means,  3rdly,  the 
performance  of  some  intermediate  actions  with  a  view  to  our 
gratification ;  as  when  things  are  seized  with  the  hand  in 
order  to  be  carried  to  the  mouth,  or  when  animals,  de- 
scr}ang  their  food  at  a  distance,  set  themselves  to  move 
forward  to  lay  hold  of  it.  These  intermediate  actions  are 
most  manifestly  the  result  of  experience,  in  the  human 
subject  at  least.  The  power  of  locomotion  has  first  to  be 
developed ;  the  exerting  of  the  power  then  becomes  associ- 
ated with  its  various  consequences,  and,  among  others,  that  of 
bringing  the  individual  within  reach  of  the  objects  of  its 
desires.  4thly,  The'voluntary  command  of  the  organs  means 
the  power  of  imitation,  or  of  performing  actions  in  con- 
sequence of  seeing  them  performed.  Here,  a  link  has  to  be 
established  between  a  certain  appearance  to  the  eye  and 
the  movement  of  corresponding  organs  in  the  individual's 


ACQUIREMENTS    INVOLVED    IN    VOLITION.  435 

self.  In  the  case  of  vocal  imitation,  a  sound  is  the  antece- 
dent of  an  utterance  ;  each  sound  heard  being  associated  with 
a  distinct  movement  of  the  chest  and  larynx,  under  the 
proper  attitudes  of  the  mouth.  It  is  not  uncommonly  sup- 
posed that  imitation,  both  of  actions  and  of  sounds,  is  in- 
stinctive ;  but  I  have  doubts  whether  this  be  correct.  5thly, 
Under  volition,  we  include  the  power  of  moving  our  organs 
merely  on  the  wish  to  see  them  moved  ;  as  when  I  look  at 
my  hand,  and  will  to  raise  it.  Here,  a  connexion  is  formed 
between  the  sensible  appearance  of  any  member,  or  the  idea 
left  by  that  sensible  appearance,  and  its  being  moved.  Lastly, 
We  can  make  a  movement  on  being  directed  to  do  so,  by  the 
part  being  named ;  'up  head,'  '  down  hands,' etc.  This  is  a 
further  association,  formed  between  certain  names  or  sounds 
and  a  particular  class  of  movements.  All  these  various 
actions  are  employed  in  the  most  elementary  efforts  of  the 
will  to  control  the  body.  Others  could  be  named  that 
transcend  their  range  of  influence, — as,  for  example,  the 
control  of  the  passions  and  the  command  of  the  thoughts.* 

*  The  following  are  notes  of  observations  made  upon  the  earliest  move- 
ments of  two  lambs  seen  during  the  first  hour  after  birth,  and  at  subsequent 
stages  of  their  development.  The  two  came  from  the  same  mother,  and  their 
actions  were  in  the  main  alike. 

One  of  the  lambs,  on  being  dropped,  was  taken  hold  of  by  the  shepherd, 
and  laid  on  the  ground  so  as  to  rest  on  its  four  knees.  For  a  very  short  time, 
perhaps  not  much  above  a  minute,  it  kept  still  in  this  attitude.  A  certain 
force  was,  doubtless,  exerted  to  enable  it  to  retain  this  position  ;  but  the  first 
decided  exertion  of  the  creature's  own  energy  was  sho^vn  in  standing  up  on 
its  legs,  which  it  did  after  the  pause  of  little  more  than  a  minute.  The 
power  thus  put  forth  I  can  only  describe  as  a  spontaneous  burst  of  the 
locomotive  energy,  under  this  condition, — namely,  that,  as  all  the  four  limbs 
■were  actuated  at  the  same  instant,  the  innate  power  must  have  been  guided 
into  this  quadruple  channel  in  consequence  of  that  nervous  organization 
that  constitutes  the  four  limbs, one  related  group.  The  animal  now  stood  on 
its  legs  ;  the  feet  being  considerably  apart  so  as  to  widen  the  base  of  support. 
The  energy  that  raised  it  up  continued  flowing,  in  order  to  maintain  the 
standing  posture ;  and  the  animal,  doubtless,  had  the  consciousness  of  this 
flow  of  energy,  as  its  earliest  mental  experience.  Thus  standing  posture  was 
continued  for  a  minute  or  two  in  perfect  stillness.  Next  followed  the 
beginnings  of  locomotive  movement.  At  first,  a  limb  was  raised  and  set 
down  again ;  then  came  a  second  movement  that  widened  the  animal's  base 


436  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

52.  Ill  order  to  illustrate  the  acquired  character  of  these 
several  voluntary  actions — excepting  always  the  first,  namely, 
the  continuino;  or  abating  of  a  present  movement  in  obedi- 
ence to  a  present  feeling — I  shall  select  the  case  of  Imitation. 
If  we  can  prove  satisfactorily  that  this  is  not  instinctive 
{i.e.,  instinctive  as  usually  conceived),  but  acquired,  little 
doubt  wall  remain  on  the  other  cases. 

without  altering  its  position.  When  a  more  complex  movement  with  two 
limbs  came  on,  the  effect  seemed  to  be  to  go  sideways ;  another  complex 
movement  led  forwards ;  but,  at  the  outset,  there  appeared  to  be  nothing  to 
decide  one  direction  rather  than  another,  for  the  earliest  movements  were  a 
jumble  of  side,  forward,  and  backward.  Still,  the  alternation  of  limb  that 
any  consecutive  advance  required,  seemed  within  the  power  of  the  creature 
during  the  first  ten  minutes  of  life.  Sensation  as  yet  could  be  of  very  little 
avail ;  and  it  was  evident  that  action  took  the  start  in  the  animal's  history. 
The  eyes  were  wide  open ;  and  light  must  needs  have  entered  to  stimulate  the 
brain.  The  contact  with  the  solid  earth,  and  the  feelings  of  weight  and 
movement,  were  the  earliest  feelings.  In  this  state  of  uncertain  wandering 
with  little  change  of  place,  the  lamb  was  seized  hold  of  and  carried  up  to  the 
side  of  the  mother.  This  made  no  difference,  till  its  nose  was  brought  into 
contact  with  the  woolly  skin  of  the  dam, — which  originated  a  new  sensation. 
Then  came  a  conjunction,  manifestly  of  the  volitional  kind.  There  was 
clearly  a  tendency  to  sustain  this  contact, — to  keep  the  nose  rubbing  upon  the 
side  and  belly  of  the  ewe.  On  finding  a  certain  movement  to  have  this  effect, 
that  movement  was  sustained ;  exemplifying  what  I  consider  the  primitive  or 
fundamental  fact  of  volition.  On  losing  the  contact,  thsre  was  as  yet  no  power 
to  recover  it  by  a  direct  action ;  for,  the  indications  of  sight  at  this  stage  had 
no  meaning.  The  animal's  spontaneous  irregular  movements  were  continued. 
For  a  time,  they  were  quite  fruitless  ;  until  a  chance  contact  came  about  again, 
and  this  contact  could  evidently  sustain  the  posture  or  movement  that  was 
causing  it.  The  whole  of  the  first  hour  was  spent  in  these  various  movements 
about  the  mother ;  there  being,  in  that  short  time,  an  evident  increase  of 
facility  in  the  various  acts  of  locomotion,  and  in  commanding  the  head  in 
such  a  way  as  to  keep  up  the  agreeable  touch.  A  second  ho\ir  was  spent 
much  in  the  same  manner ;  and,  in  the  course  of  the  third  hour,  the  animal, 
which  had  been  entirely  left  to  itself,  came  upon  the  teat,  and  got  this  into  its 
mouth.  The  spontaneous  workings  of  the  mouth  now  yielded  a  new  sensa- 
tion, whereby  they  were  animated  and  sustained,  and,  unexpectedly,  the 
creature  found  itself  in  the  possession  of  a  new  pleasure — the  satisfaction 
first  of  mouthing  the  object,  next,  by  and  by,  the  pleasure  of  drawing  milk. 
The  strength  of  this  last  feeling  would,  doubtless,  give  an  intense  spur  to  the 
co-existing  movements,  and  keep  them  energetically  at  work.  A  new  and 
grand  impression  was  thus  produced,  remaining  after  the  fact,  and  stimulating 
exertion  and  pvirsuit  in  order  to  recover  it. 


VOLUNTARY   ACQUISITION    IN    ANIMALS.  437 

(1)  The  first  argument  against  purely  instinctive  imitation 
is  the  fact,  that  no  imitation  whatever  takes  place  during  the 
first  few  months  of  infant  existence.  So  far  as  my  observa- 
tion goes,  there  is  very  little  during  the  first  year.  But  a 
primitive  impulse  ought  to  appear  much  earlier.  The  in- 
stinctive movements  discussed  in  the  preceding  Book,  show 

Six  or  seven  hours  after  the  birth,  the  animal  had  made  notable  progress. 
Locomotion  was  easy ;  the  forward  movement  being  preferred,  but  not  pre- 
dominant. The  sensations  of  sight  began  to  have  a  meaning.  In  less  than 
twenty-four  hours,  the  animal  could,  at  the  sight  of  the  mother  ahead,  move 
in  the  forward  direction  at  once  to  come  up  to  her — showing  that  a  particular 
visible  image  had  now  been  associated  with  a  definite  movement ;  the 
absence  of  any  such  association  being  most  manifest  in  the  early  movements 
of  life.  It  could  proceed  at  once  to  the  teat  and  suck,  guided  only  by  its 
desire  and  the  sight  of  the  object.  It  was  now  in  the  full  exercise  of  the 
locomotive  faculty  ;  and  very  soon  it  could  be  seen  moving,  with  the  nose 
along  the  ground  in  contact  with  the  grass — the  preliminary  of  seizing  the 
blades  in  the  mouth. 

I  am  not  able  to  specify  minutely  the  exact  periods  of  the  various  de- 
velopments in  the  self-education  of  this  lamb ;  but  the  foregoing  are  con-ect 
statements  to  the  best  of  my  recollection.  The  observations  serve  to  prove  dis- 
tinctly these  several  points, — namely,  first,  the  existence  of  spontaneous  action 
as  the  earliest  fact  in  the  creature's  history  ;  second,  the  apparent  absence  of 
any  definite  bent  prior  to  experienced  sensations ;  and,  third,  the  power  of 
a  sensation  actually  experienced  to  keep  up  the  coinciding  movement  of  the 
time,  thereby  constituting  a  voluntary  act  in  the  initial  form.  The  truly 
remarkable  circumstance  in  the  case  was  the  rate  of  acquisition,  or  the 
rapidity  with  which  all  the  associations  between  sensations  and  actions  became 
fixed.  A  power  that  the  creature  did  not  at  all  possess  naturally,  got  itself 
matured  as  an  acquisition  in  a  few  hours  ;  before  the  end  of  a  week,  the  lamb 
was  capable  of  almost  anything  belonging  to  its  sphere  of  existence,  and,  at 
the  lapse  of  a  fortnight,  no  difierence  could  be  seen  between  it  and  the  aged 
members  of  the  flock. 

It  is,  however,  this  circumstance  of  extreme  rapidity  in  the  pace  of  acqui- 
sition that  casts  suspicion  upon  the  inference  that  the  sole  explanation  of  the 
niatured  aptitude  of  those  quadrupeds  is  to  be  found  in  their  brief  experience. 
Everything  else  is  consistent  with  such  a  view ;  but  the  education  of  an  animal 
cannot  be  assumed  to  proceed  at  such  a  rate,  and  we  are  driven  rather  to 
assume  something  in  the  primordial  constitution  that  paves  the  way  for  the 
aptitudes  in  question.  True,  there  is  not  the  same  decisiveness  in  the 
instinctive  capabilities  of  quadrupeds  as  in  those  of  birds  ;  but  the  analogy  is 
close  enough  to  support  the  inference  that  a  power  matured  at  birth  in  the 
one  case  is  so  far  advanced  in  the  other  as  greatly  to  shorten  the  process  of 
education  (see  Highek  Instincts,  p.  .329). 


438  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

themselves  from  the  very  commencement  of  Hfe.  There  is 
no  nevi^  development  or  manifestation  of  power  at  the  time 
when  the  imitative  propensity  comes  on :  there  is  nothing 
parallel,  for  example,  to  the  physical  changes  that  show 
themselves  at  puberty,  along  with  the  new  feelings  of  that 
period.  The  child  is  seen  to  go  through  a  great  deal  of 
active  exertion  of  its  own,  in  the  course  of  those  unimitative 
months.  The  power  of  repeating  the  actions  of  others  would 
be  exceedingly  valuable  at  this  time,  and  would  save  much 
fruitless  endeavour ;  but  the  very  faintest  tendency  in  this 
direction  cannot  be  discerned.  There  may  be  instances  of  a 
more  precocious  faculty  than  an}'  that  I  have  observed,  but 
these  would  not  affect  the  present  argument. 

(2)  In  the  second  place,  imitation,  when  it  does  begin,  is 
slow  and  gradual  in  its  progress  —a  fact  that  looks  like  acqui- 
sition, and  not  like  instinct.  AVe  find,  for  example,  that,  in 
Speech,  the  imitacion  is  at  first  limited  to  one  or  two  arti- 
culations, and  that  others  come  on  by  degrees  at  consider- 
able intervals.  If  there  were  any  primitive  connexion  in 
the  brain  between  a  sound  heard,  and  the  reproduction  of 
that  sound  with  the  voice,  it  ought  to  be  as  good  for  one 
letter  of  the  alphabet  as  for  another.  So  with  the  move- 
ment of  the  hand :  why  should  one  movement  be  possible, 
while  no  amount  of  example  will  bring  out  a  second,  not  in 
itself  more  difficult  ? 

(8)  The  imitation  very  often  fails,  after  it  has  once  been 
hit.  x4.  child  has  caught  a  certain  sound,  and  will,  at  parti- 
cular times,  produce  it ;  yet,  at  other  times,  there  is  no  pos- 
sibility of  bringing  on  the  utterance.  This  is  constantly 
seen  in  the  first  efforts  of  children.  It  is  in  vain  that  we 
repeat  to  them  a  sound,  a  letter,  or  a  syllable  that  they 
have  shown  themselves  able  to  pronounce  ;  the  association 
between  the  audible  impression  and  the  specific  vocal  exer- 
tion has  plainly  not  yet  been  formed  :  it  cannot,  therefore, 
be  instinctive.  The  child  has,  in  the  course  of  its  spontane- 
ous articulate  movements,  come  on  the  sound  hum,  and  this 
sound  once  pronounced  is  likely  to  recur  in  the  cycle  of  its 


THE    POWER    OF    IMITATION    ACQUIRED.  439' 

spontaneous  actions  ;  but  to  utter  the  syllable  at  the  in- 
stance of  another  person's  utterance  is  something  additional. 
I  can  easily  render  to  myself  an  account  of  the  process,  re- 
garded as  an  acquisition.  The  sound  spoken  is  also  heard — i.e., 
besides  the  vocal  exertion,  there  is  a  coincident  impression 
on  the  ear.  x\n  association  grows  up  between  the  exertion 
and  the  sensation,  and,  after  a  sufficient  time,  the  one  is  able 
to  recall  the  other.  The  sensation,  anyhow  occurring,  brings 
on  the  exertion  ;  and  when,  by  some  other  person's  repeating 
the  syllable,  the  familiar  sound  is  heard,  the  corresponding 
vocal  act  will  follow.  Experience,  I  think,  proves  that  the 
time  elapsing  between  the  ability  to  utter  a  sound,  and  the 
readiness  to  utter  it  on  its  being  heard,  corresponds  to  the 
time  requisite  for  an  adhesion  to  grow  up  between  the  two 
heterogeneous  elements — the  one  a  spontaneous  action,  the 
other  a  sensation.  These  early  sounds  come  out  more  fre- 
quently of  themselves  than  under  the  stimulus  of  imitation, — 
which  proves  that  the  exertion  precedes  the  power  of  imitating. 

If  imitation  be  instinctive,  there  must  be  several  thou- 
sands of  instinctive  connexions  between  sensations  and 
actions.  The  sound  of  each  letter  of  the  alphabet,  and 
every  word,  would  require  to  be  connected,  by  a  primitive 
adhesion,  with  definite  movements  of  the  larynx,  the  mouth, 
and  the  chest.  Every  movement  of  the  hand  would  need 
to  be  associated  with  the  visible  appearances  of  the  same 
movement  in  other  human  beings.  We  should  have  to 
affirm  the  manifest  absurdity  that  associations  could  be 
formed  between  things  yet  unexperienced — between  sounds, 
and  sights,  and  actions,  long  before  anything  had  been  heard, 
seen,  or  done. 

(4)  It  is  notorious  to  observation,  that  more  can  be  done 
by  the  nurse  imitating  the  child,  than  by  the  child  imitating 
the  nurse.  AVhen  an  articulation  is  stumbled  on,  it  is 
caught  up  b}'  all  around,  and  the  child  is  made  familiar 
with  the  sound  as  proceeding  from  other  voices,  in  addition 
to  its  own.  This  would,  obviously,  promote  the  growth  of 
the  needful  adhesive  connexion. 


440  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

(5)  Imitation  varies  with  the  natural  abundance  of  spon- 
taneous activity;  being  most  efficient  where  the  spontaneous 
variety  and  flexibihty  are  good.  A  child  will  learn  to  imi- 
tate singing,  in  proportion  as,  of  its  own  accord,  it  falls  into 
musical  notes.  Its  own  native  song  must  come  first :  the 
goodness  of  that  will  be  a  condition  of  its  acquiring  the  song 
of  others.  In  whatever  department  any  individual  shows 
spontaneous  and  unprompted  facility,  in  that  dejjartment 
will  the  same  individual  be  imitative  or  acquisitive. 

(6)  Imitation  advances  with  the  acquired  habits.  In 
learning  to  dance,  the  deficiency  of  the  association  between 
the  pupil's  movements  and  the  sight  of  the  master's,  renders 
the  first  steps  difficult  to  acquire.  The  desired  movements 
are  not  naturally  performed  at  the  outset.  Some  movements 
are  made — sufficient  voluntary  command  of  the  limbs  and 
body  has  been  acquired,  iu  other  shapes,  to  set  going  action 
of  some  kind  ;  but  the  first  actions  are  seen  to  be  quite 
wrong ;  there  is  a  manifest  want  of  coincidence,  which 
originates  new  attempts ;  and  these  failing,  others  are  made, 
until  at  last  the  posture  is  hit.  The  grand  process  of  trial 
and  error  brings  on  the  first  coincidence  between  a  move- 
ment, and  the  appearance  of  that  movement  in  another  per- 
son ;  repetition,  by  constituting  a  cohesive  link,  makes  the 
imitation  at  last  easy.  Upon  this  acquisition,  other  acquisi- 
tions of  the  same  kind  are  based,  and  the  improvement  is 
accelerating.  Thus  it  is  that  we  pass  through  an  alphabet 
of  imitation  in  all  arts  :  the  fixing  of  the  association  in  the 
first  links  is  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  process. 

(7)  It  is  in  harmony  with  all  that  has  now  been  ad- 
vanced, that  imitation  depends  likewise  on  the  delicacy  of 
the  sense  that  perceives  the  effect. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  exhaust  the  subject  of  Imitation, 
in  particular,  or  the  acquisitions  that  enter  into  volition,  in 
general.  It  is  enough,  for  the  present,  to  show  that  the  asso- 
ciative principle  is  an  indispensable  requisite  here  as  else- 
where. All  the  conditions  already  specified,  as  affecting  the 
rate  of  adhesiveness  in  other  acquirements,  might  be  exem- 


IMITATION    MAY   HAVE    AX    INSTINCTIVE    PREPARATION.    441 

plified  likewise  in  these.  The  great  pecuharity  in  their 
case  arises  from  the  circumstances  of  their  commencement. 
Being  the  starting-point  of  every  other  branch  of  education, 
they  must  find  their  own  way  through  struggles  and  acci- 
dents, trials  and  failures.  Reposing  upon  the  great  funda- 
mental link  between  consciousness  and  present  action, — - 
between  pleasure  or  pain,  and  the  activity  happening  at  the 
time, — they  come  at  last  to  supply  definite  connexions 
between  our  feelings  and  exertions,  so  as  to  enable  us,  not 
merely  to  control  a  movement  at  work,  but  to  call  dormant 
actions  into  being  at  the  instance  of  our  reigning  desire. 

Of  the  various  circumstances  affecting  the  progress  of 
these  volitional  associations,  the  engagement  of  the  cerebral 
energy  or  concentrated  attention  is  of  signal  consequence. 
This  condition,  necessary  at  any  age,  seems  the  all-important 
one  in  the  early  months  of  our  existence.  The  moment  of 
an  acquisition  seems  generally  to  turn  upon  some  happy 
concurrence  of  aroused  attention,  or  mental  engrossment, 
with  the  action  ;  if  an  impression  is  not  detained  for  a  time 
by  the  influence  of  some  feeling,  it  is  void  of  effect.  When 
the  child  hits  upon  an  exercise  that  gives  it  pleasure,  and  is 
thereby  led  to  repeat  the  act,  earnestly  and  intently,  the 
occasion  is  sure  to  bring  a  sensible  advance  in  fixing  the 
whole  connected  train. 


As  in  other  connexions,  I  have  to  qualify  the  foregoing 
explanation  by  admitting  the  possibility  and  the  fact  of  heredit- 
ary transmission,  in,  at  least,  preparing  the  way  or  giving 
facilities  for  the  operation  now  described.  Eeferring  again  to 
the  situation  of  the  young  quadruped,  which,  in  a  few  days  after 
birth,  can  follow  the  movements  of  the  parent  in  feeding  itself, 
we  may  presume  that  the  inheritance  of  tendencies  favouring 
acquisition  may  decisively  contribute  to  the  advancement  of  our 
early  powers  of  imitation.  The  term  "  Instinct"  would  thus  have 
a  certain  fitness,  it  being  understood  that  it  expresses  simply  an 
undefined  amount  of  transmitted  aptitude  in  aid  of  our  education 
as  above  portrayed. 


442  eetenti\':eness — law  of  coxtiguity. 

natural  objects— aggregates  of  natural  qualities. 

53.  One  of  the  principal  components  of  human  intelhgence 
is  our  permanent  hold  of  the  external,  or  object,  world,  as  it 
strikes  the  senses. 

External  things  usually  affect  us  through  a  plurality  of 
senses.  The  pebble  on  the  sea  shore  is  pictured  on  the  eye 
as  form  and  colour.  AYe  take  it  up  in  the  hand,  and 
thereby  obtain  the  impression  of  weight,  together  with  the 
tactile  sensation  of  the  surface.  Knock  two  pebbles  together, 
and  there  is  a  characteristic  sound.  Take  also  a  billiard  ball: 
'  its  colour  is  one  attribute  which  I  signify  by  calling  it 
white ;  its  figure  is  another  which  is  signified  by  calling  it 
spherical ;  the  firm  cohesion  of  its  parts  is  signified  by  call- 
ing it  hard  ;  its  recoiling,  when  it  strikes  a  hard  body,  is 
signified  by  its  being  called  elastic  ;  its  origin,  as  being  part 
of  the  tooth  of  an  elephant,  is  signified  by  calling  it  ivory  ; 
and  its  use  by  calling  it  a  billiard  ball  '.  To  retain  the 
impression  of  an  object  of  this  kind,  there  must  be  an  asso- 
ciation of  all  these  different  eifects.  Such  association,  when 
matured  and  firm,  is  our  idea,  our  intellectual  grasp,  of  the 
ball. 

Passing  to  the  organic  world,  and  plucking  a  rose,  we 
have  the  same  effects  — form  to  the  eye  and  to  the  hand, 
colour  and  tactile  properties,  with  the  addition  of  odour  and 
of  taste.  A  certain  time  is  requisite  for  the  coherence  of  all 
these  qualities  in  one  aggregate,  so  as  to  give  us  the  enduring 
image  of  the  rose.  AVhen  fully  acquired,  any  one  of  the 
characteristic  impressions  may,  under  given  circumstances, 
revive  the  others.  The  odour,  the  sight,  the  feeling  of  the 
thorny  stalk, — each  of  these  by  itself  will  hoisf  the  entire 
impression  mto  the  view.  Should  we  go  to  work  and  dissect 
the  fiower  botanically,  we  obtain  new  impressions  to  enter 
into  the  common  aggregate. 

It  is  by  rapidly  associating  these  qualities, — in  other  words, 
by  the  ready  adhesion  of  impressions  of  sight,  touch,  and 
the  other  senses, — that  a  person  becomes  at  last  conversant 


COMPLEX   OBJECTS   OF    SENSE.  443 

with  Mineral,  Vegetable,  and  Animal  bodies.  In  the  mind 
of  the  Naturalist,  the  sensations  of  sight  and  of  touch,  more 
especially,  must  take  a  ready  hold.  A  good  general  ad- 
hesiveness, aided  by  the  special  or  local  susceptibilities,  is 
chiefly  to  be  depended  on.  The  element  of  concentration  of 
mind  must  be  present  likewise,  in  the  shape  of  an  interest 
for  the  study.  To  this  requisite,  however,  we  must  attach 
an  important  qualification.  AA'hen  a  department  of  acquisi- 
tion involves  a  great  mass  of  detail,  the  attention,  spread 
over  a  wide  area,  cannot  be  strongly  concentrated  at  any 
point.  The  natural  or  unprompted  adhesiveness,  whether 
from  general  or  from  local  endowment,  is  called  for  alike  in 
Natural  History  and  in  Languages. 

The  power  of  observation  ever  fresh  and  buoyant,  the 
energy  of  the  brain  thrown  into  visual  and  tactile  sensation, 
are  characteristics  not  of  the  naturalist  alone,  but  of  all  men 
that  deal  w^ith  outward  things  in  the  concrete— as  the  en- 
gineer, the  military  commander,  and  the  poet.  In  those 
things  that  appeal  to  other  senses  also — as  articles  of  food, — 
there  is  an  additional  motive,  growing  out  of  their  special 
interest.  So,  there  may  be  a  superadded  charm  of  the 
artistic  kind,  as  in  the  precious  stones,  determining  a  prefer- 
ence, with  some  minds,  for  all  objects  of  a  nature  to  gratify 
the  artistic  sensibilities.  But  the  naturalist  should  be  above 
such  partialities  ;  to  him  every  natural  object  must  possess 
a  moderate  interest,  and  no  one  more  than  a  fair  share :  it 
is  only  by  this  moderation  that  he  can  keep  his  mind  equal 
to  the  multitude  and  variety  of  nature. 

54.  From  the  objects  of  the  world  thus  apprehended,  as 
they  strike  the  immediate  sense,  we  pass  to  a  higher  group  of 
aggregates,' — things  with  properties  not  always  present  to  the 
view.  For  example,  a  cup  in  its  completeness  must  be  con- 
ceived as  containing  something,  as  serving  this  purpose  or 
use.  AVe  have  to  associate  with  the  permanent  sensible  qua- 
lities this  other  quality  of  usefulness  for  some  end,  which  has 
a  special  interest  in  it  to  quicken  our  retentiveness  of  the 
entire  total.     Furniture  and  tools  and  implements  of  every 


444  RETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

description  have  this  superadded  quahty, — which,  however, 
instead  of  burdening  the  memory,  rather  hghtens  it  by  the 
spur  of  a  special  interest.  All  related  objects  are  more  easily 
fixed  in  the  mind  than  those  that  are  um'elated,  particularly 
if  the  relation  be  an  interesting  one.  A  monarch  is  more  im- 
pressive than  a  man  ;  a  millstone  is  more  firmly  remembered 
than  a  useless  block  on  a  moor.  When  the  interest  in  indus- 
trial production  is  naturally  high  in  an  individual,  every  kind 
of  machine  arrests  the  regards  and  makes  a  stronger  impres- 
sion. AVe  have  here  another  example  of  that  select  or  special 
attention,  which  concentrates  the  mind  upon  some  things  to 
the  neglect  of  others,  and  is  also  in  strong  contrast  with  the 
catholic  tendencies  of  the  naturalist  mind.  Not  only  is 
there  a  restriction  as  regards  the  objects  in  the  narrow  point 
of  view,  but  the  properties  attended  to  are  more  limited. 
If  a  tool  has  a  good  edge,  its  specific  gravity  is  a  matter  of 
indifference  ;  if  a  quarry  yields  good  building  stone,  the 
owner  leaves  it  to  others  to  determine  its  mineral  composi- 
tion and  its  geological  era. 

NATUEAL  AND  HABITUAL  CONJUNCTIONS— STILL  LIFE. 

55,  The  things  about  us  that  maintain  fixed  places  and 
relations,  become  connected  in  idea  as  they  are  in  reality, 
and  we  thus  lay  up  a  phantasmagoric  representation  of  our 
habitual  environment.  The  house  we  live  in,  with  its 
furniture  and  fittings,  the  street,  town,  or  rural  scene  that 
we  encounter  daily,  by  their  incessant  iteration,  cohere  into 
abiding  recollections ;  and  any  one  part  easily  brings  all  the 
rest  into  the  view.  These  familiar  haunts  exemplify  pic- 
torial adhesion  in  a  high  degree  ;  numerous  repetitions  and 
lively  interest  combine  to  the  result.  We,  likewise,  associate 
a  number  of  human  beings  with  their  abodes,  dresses, 
avocations,  and  all  other  constant  accompaniments. 

Objects  at  a  distance  from  our  daily  circle  afford  a  better 
opportunity  of  testing  the  natural  adhesiveness  of  the  mind 
for  pictorial  expanse.  A  house  we  have  visited  only  once  or 
twice,  a  strange  street,  a  new  scene,  puts  to  the  proof  the 


EECOLLECTION    OF    SCENES    OF   NATURE.  445 

visual  persistence  of  the  mind.  This  resolves  itself  partly 
into  the  case  of  coloured  impressions,  and  partly  into 
that  of  visual  forms ;  the  tenacity  for  colour  being  the 
essential  point.  If  the  sense  of  colour  is  not  very  powerful, 
a  coloured  decoration  is  quite  irrecoverable.  The  same  may 
be  said  of  a  heterogeneous  and  formless  collection  of  orna- 
ments or  curiosities.  The  recollection  of  dresses  turns 
principally  upon  the  hold  we  have  of  colour.  The  interior 
of  a  room  implies  form,  and  may  be  retained  as  such  ;  but, 
if  the  sense  of  colour  is  indifferent,  it  will  be  revived  only  in 
outline.  A  garden,  a  shrubbery,  an  array  of  fields,  also  rely 
upon  the  coloured  element.  The  more  irregular  the  outlines 
of  things  are,  the  more  do  we  depend  upon  the  tenacity  of 
the  mind  for  coloured  impressions. 

Thus,  for  the  easy  retention  of  the  variegated  imagery  of 
the  world  about  us  in  all  its  richness,  the  first  requisite  isa 
powerful  adhesiveness  as  regards  colour.  This  gives  to  the 
mind  a  pictorial  character — an  attraction  for  the  concrete  of 
nature,  with  all  the  interest  thence  arising.  We  have  just 
seen  how  far  it  belongs  to  the  naturalist ;  it  is  also  the 
common  basis  of  character  in  the  Painter  and  the  Poet;  for, 
although  both  these  have  to  select,  from  the  multitude  of 
appearances,  such  of  them  as  have  an  interest  in  art,  yet  they 
should  be  so  constituted  as  to  keep  a  hold  of  anything  that 
presents  itself  to  the  eye,  whether  beautiful  or  not.  A  luxuri- 
ant imagination  implies  the  facility  of  retaining  scenes  of 
every  description  ;  nothing  less  could  sustain  the  flow  of  a 
great  poet.  All  objects  may  not  be  beautiful  or  picturesque, 
yet  there  is  hardly  any  appearance  but  may  enter  effectively 
into  some  composition ;  and  the  poet-painter  needs  to  be  a 
person  of  strong  disinterested  retentiveness  for  everything 
that  he  sees.  Any  one  stopping  short  at  this  point  would 
be  a  naturalist  simply  ;  but,  when  the  poetic  sense  is  added, 
to  lay  a  special  stress  upon  the  beautiful,  grand,  or  touching 
objects,  the  naturalist  passes  into  the  artist.  A  strong 
artistic  sense,  without  the  broad  disinterested  hold  of  nature's 
concrete  in  general,  may  make  a  man  a  genuine  or  even  an 


446  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

exquisite  artist,  but  thin  and  meagre  in  his  conceptions — 
great  taste,  with  feeble  invention. 

It  appears,  then,  that,  in  respect  of  cohesiveness,  the 
habitual  conjunctions  of  objects  differ  but  little  from  the 
individual  concretes.  The  retentiveness  of  the  sense  of 
Sight  is  the  mainstay  of  both  the  one  and  the  other :  in  the 
smaller  and  more  accessible  objects,  we  bring  in  touch  and 
the  other  senses  ;  in  the  sphere  of  the  large  and  the  remote, 
we  embody  the  images  in  sight  alone. 

56.  Among  the  important  aggregates  implied  under  the 
present  head,  I  may  include  those  artificial  representations 
intended  to  aid  the  conception  of  the  outer  world, — as,  for 
example,  Maps,  Diagrams,  and  Pictorial  Sketches.  A  very 
great  utility  is  served  by  these  devices,  and  much  intellectual 
power  and  practical  skill  depend  on  our  being  able  to  associate 
and  retain  them.  The  Geography  of  the  globe  is  summed 
up  in  an  artificial  globe,  or  in  a  set  of  maps,  with  outline, 
shade  and  colour,  to  correspond  with  the  differences  of  sea 
and  land,  mountain  and  plain.  There  are  very  great  dif- 
ferences among  individuals  in  remembering  a  map.  A 
good  adhesiveness  for  colour  is  still  an  important  element, 
just  as  in  the  recollection  of  the  actual  surface  of  a  country. 
It  is  a  case  of  that  facile  retentiveness  of  a  great  multitude 
of  impressions,  that  contrasts  with  the  severe  hold  of  a  few 
selected  ones — an  extensive  rather  than  an  intensive  grasp. 
Next  to  maps,  we  may  reckon  Natural  History  sketches 
which  contain  a  great  variety  of  appearance  depending 
much  upon  differences  of  colour.  Anatomical  diagrams 
and  the  drawings  of  machinery  are  of  the  same  nature,  but 
incline  to  the  diagrams  of  abstract  science,  where  attention 
is  strongly  concentrated  on  few  and  limited  features.  When 
we  come  to  the  figures  of  Euclid,  colour  entirely  disappears 
as  an  element ;  the  pictorial  retentiveness  is  of  no  avail. 
Form  is  everything ;  and  that  Form  is  not  various,  but 
limited,  and  exceedingly  important.  This  illustrates,  by 
contrast,  the  power  of  seizing  nature's  aggregates  and  con- 
cretes, where   thousands  of  distinct  impressions  must   fall 


THE    EXPERIMENTAL    PROPERTIES    OF    THINGS.  447 

into  their  places  and  cohere  with  ease,  and  in  a  short  time. 
A  crowded  theatre  and  the  forty-seventh  of  Euchd  are 
eqiiaUy  objects  to  the  eye,  and  also  to  the  conceiving  mind 
when  they  are  gone ;  but  the  region  of  the  brain  that  deter- 
mines the  adhesiveness  must  be  quite  different  in  the  two 
cases  :  in  the  one,  we  have  colour  and  variegated  form ;  in 
the  other,  a  few  regular  forms  with  negation  of  colour. 

57.  There  is  an  important  class  of  artificial  conjunctions, 
wherein  the  obvious  appearances  of  things  are  associated 
with  other  appearances  brought  out  by  Manipulation  and 
Experiment.  The  properties  of  a  Mineral — the  complete 
notion  that  we  can  attain  respecting  it — are  a  combina- 
tion of  the  sight  and  the  touch  with  the  artificial  aspects 
made  by  a  process  of  measuring  angles — a  fracture,  a  scratch, 
the  blowpipe,  the  application  of  an  acid.  A  complex  im- 
pression is  thus  stamped  on  the  mind  :  at  an  after  time,  any 
one  of  the  characteristic  properties  will,  under  certain 
qualifications,  revive  the  total  conception  of  the  mineral. 
So  in  Chemistry  ;  each  substance  is  conceived,  not  simply  as 
seen  and  handled  by  itself,  but  as  acted  on  by  many  other 
substances,  by  changes  of  temperature,  and  so  forth.  The 
chemist's  notion  of  sulphur  is  a  large  aggregate  of  appear- 
ances and  sensations  produced  in  various  ways  ;  it  is,  in 
fact,  the  notion  of  a  great  collection  of  substances — the 
compounds  of  sulphur,— as  odour  of  burnt  brimstone,  oil  of 
vitriol,  salts  of  sulphuric  acid,  compounds  of  sulphur  with 
metals,  etc.  In  like  manner,  the  properties  of  a  plant  are 
not  completely  summed  up  and  aggregated  in  the  mind,  till, 
in  addition  to  all  the  aspects  it  presents  by  itself,  other 
aspects  are  taken  along  with  it,  brought  out  by  dissection 
and  manipulation.  This  is  an  exact  parallel  to  an  example 
occurring  under  the  immediately  preceding  head, — namely, 
tools  and  machinery, — where  the  present  aspect  has  to  be 
conjoined  w4th  other  appearances,  shown  when  they  are  put 
to  their  practical  uses. 

In  these  mineral  and  chemical  aggregates,  there  is  great 
scope  for  proving  the  force  of  contiguous  association,  but  still 


448  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

more  for  testing  the  disposition  to  dwell  upon  artificial  com- 
binations,— the  results  of  previous  analysis  or  forced  separa- 
tion of  natural  conjunctions.  Science  is  repellent,  from  the 
necessity  of  dissociating  appearances  that  go  naturally  and 
easily  together,  of  renouncing  the  full  and  total  aspect  of  an 
object  whereby  it  engages  agreeably  the  various  senses,  and 
of  resting  upon  some  feature  that  has  no  interest  to  the 
common  eye.  Those  compounds  of  sulphur  that  have  to  be 
conjoined  with  the  simple  substance  as  a  part  of  its  idea, 
are  constantly  viewed  by  the  chemist  under  the  one  aspect 
of  composition  or  decomposition  in  the  contact  with  other 
bodies  :  the  appearance  of  any  single  substance  to  the  eye 
may  be  wholly  irrelevant  to  any  purpose  of  his. 

SUCCESSIONS. 

58.  If  we  except  complex  and  coinciding  muscular  move- 
ments, and  the  concurrence  of  sensations  through  different 
senses  at  the  same  moment,  all  associations  are  successive 
to  the  mind,  seeing  that  we  must  pass  from  the  one  to  the 
other,  both  in  the  original  experience  and  in  the  subsequent 
recollection.  The  features  of  a  landscape  can  be  conceived 
only  by  successive  movements  of  the  mind,  as  it  can  be 
seen  only  by  successive  movements  of  the  eye.  But  we  here 
contrast,  with  the  uniform  successions  that  result  in  the 
Simultaneous,  the  variations  or  changed  aspects  of  things, 
called  Successions  proper. 

We  may  notice,  first,  the  successions  that  go  round  in  a 
cycle,  without  shock  or  interruption, — as  day  and  night,  the 
phases  of  the  moon,  the  course  of  the  seasons.  The  different 
aspects  presented  by  the  sky  above  and  the  world  around, 
in  the  course  of  the  solar  day,  are  associated  in  our  minds  in 
their  regular  order,  and  anticipated  accordingly.  This  cyclical 
association  makes  up  one  part  of  our  knowledge,  or  experience 
of  the  world,  and  guides  our  actions  in  accordance  with  it. 
Such  slow  and  tranquil  changes  become  coherent  under 
almost  the  very  same  conditions  as  the  aspects  of  still  life 
that  we  view  in  succession  by  moving  from  place  to  place. 


SUCCESSIONS    OF   THE    EVOLUTION    OF   LIVING   BEINGS.       449 

The  two  cases  are  very  different  in  themselves  ;  but,  to  the 
mind,  the  contemporaneous  in  reahty  is  the  successive  in 
idea.  The  flow  of  moviiu/  nature  is  associated  in  one  con- 
stant direction  ;  whereas  the  mental  association  of  still 
nature  is  backward  and  forward  in  various  directions :  yet, 
the  same  mental  adhesiveness  that  embraces  the  one, 
embraces  the  other. 

A  second  class  is  comprised  by  successions  of  evolution — 
as  the  development  of  a  plant,  or  an  animal,  through  all  its 
stages,  from  the  germ  to  the  decadence.  The  associations  of 
these,  as  they  occur  in  nature,  make  up  our  knowledge  of 
the  history  of  living  things.  The  peculiarity  of  the  case  is 
the  continuity  and  identity  of  the  main  subject,  and  the 
likeness  that  prevails  in  the  midst  of  change  ;  both  circum- 
stances assisting  to  impress  the  different  stages  upon  the 
recollection.  If  we  have  already  formed  an  enduring  picture 
of  a  fir  sapling,  we  have  not  much  difficulty  in  conceiving 
it  merely  expanded  in  dimensions,  the  form  and  tex- 
ture remaining  the  same ;  and  so  with  any  other  plant  or 
animal.  Where  a  creature  undergoes  a  radical  transforma- 
tion, as  a  butterfly,  or  a  frog,  we  have  to  conjoin  two  different 
appearances.  In  reality,  the  stages  of  evolution  are  more 
frequently  learned  by  seeing  them  -altogether  on  different 
subjects, — as  in  a  plantation  of  trees,  or  in  the  mixture  of  all 
ages  in  human  society.  The  evolution  of  living  beings, 
plants,  or  animals,  in  their  growth  and  decay,  usually  excites 
a  strong  and  interested  attention,  which  operates  in  fixing 
the  successive  stages  in  the  recollection.  The  same  produc- 
tion of  interest  occurs  in  historical  evolutions  ;  and  it  is  par- 
ticularly aimed  at  in  the  artificial  evolutions  of  the  drama 
and  the  romance.  There  is  also  a  strong  interest  attached 
to  the  successive  stages  of  a  constructive  operation — a  pro- 
cess in  the  arts,  a  case  in  a  court  of  law,  or  the  course  of  a 
disease.  A  mind  naturally  adhesive  to  sensible  impressions 
would,  as  a  matter  of  course,  acquire,  out  of  its  opportunities 
of  observation,  a  large  store  of  these  successions ;  but  the 

bent  of  interest,  concentrating  the  mind  upon  some,  in  pre- 

29 


450  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

ference  to  others,  is  the  efficient  circumstance.  One  man 
is  engrossed  with  the  progress  of  the  field  and  the  garden, 
from  the  seed  to  the  fruit ;  another  looks  with  especial  eye 
to  the  human  development  in  body  or  in  mind.  The  widely- 
diffused  romantic  interest  stamps  with  ease  the  successions 
of  a  plot  or  a  story. 

Apart  from  this  circumstance  of  special  interest  in  the 
unwinding  of  the  future,  the  associations  of  evolution  are 
not  materially  different  from  the  conjunctions  of  still  life  ; 
these  being  also  unavoidably  successive  in  their  presentation. 
The  pages  of  a  book,  or  the  houses  of  a  street,  exist  con- 
temporaneously, but  cannot  be  viewed  otherwise  than 
successively.  The  mind  formed  to  associate  with  little 
repetition  the  flowers  of  the  same  garden-plot,  can  likewise 
retain  the  different  phases  of  the  growing  plant, 

59.  Relatiug  to  the  recovery  of  trains  of  imagery,  there 
is  a  fact  of  the  nervous  system  to  be  attended  to ;  namely,  that 
a  mental  movement  once  set  on  tends  to  persevere  and  feed 
itself.  We  can  remark  in  the  eye  a  tendency  to  continue  in  any 
motion  when  commenced — as  in  following  a  projectile,  or  in 
sweeping  round  the  sky  line  that  bounds  a  prospect.  The 
spontaneous  vigour  of  the  moving  organs  carries  them  forward 
in  any  direction  that  they  may  chance  to  enter  on  ;  and,  in 
addition  to  the  spontaneity  of  the  active  system,  the  stimulus 
of  the  sensation  itself  operates  in  sustaining  a  movement  that 
has  been  commenced.  Thus  it  is,  that  the  eye  so  naturally 
follows  out  a  vista,  or  traces  the  course  of  a  stream.  Seeing  the 
beginning  of  a  straight  line,  or  a  part  of  a  circle,  we  feel 
ourselves  led  on  to  the  conception  of  other  parts  hidden  from 
the  view.  A  tall  spire  carries  the  regards  upwards  far  into  the 
heights  beyond  itself,  while  a  descending  current  gives  a  down- 
ward direction  to  the  bodily  or  the  mental  eye.  Just  as  we  ac- 
quire an  almost  mechanical  persistence  in  walking,  or  in  handling 
a  tool,  when  once  under  weigh,  so  the  sight  falls  into  a  given 
movement,  and  goes  on  of  its  own  accord,  over  the  course  that  has 
been  chalked  out  for  it.  When  our  eye  sweeps  along  the  line  of 
a  procession,  it  acquires  such  a  persevering  tendency  that  it  is 


SUCCESSIONS  OF  CAUSE  AND  EFFECT.        451 

apt  to  go  beyond  the  termination  until  its  view  in  that  direction 
is  completely  exhausted.  When  a'  succession  of  objects  is  very 
rapid,  as  in  a  railway  train,  it  sometimes  occasions  a  diseased 
persistency  in  the  visual  circles,  and  we  feel  everything  about 
us  still  in  motion.  Like  all  the  other  actions  of  the  brain,  this 
persistency  has  a  moderate  and  healthy  pace,  which  easily 
subsides,  and  a  hurried  and  diseased  pace,  which  we  cannot  check 
without  great  difficulty. 

Now,  in  the  operation  of  recalling  the  steps  or  members  of  a 
succession  at  the  prompting  of  those  that  go  before,  our  recollec- 
tion is  aided  by  the  tendency  to  go  forward,  or  to  leap  from  the 
one  at  present  in  the  view,  to  the  next  in  order.  This  restless 
forward  impulse  will  not  suffice  of  itself  to  recall  the  next 
member  without  an  adequate  adhesive  growth  between  it  and  the 
preceding,  but  it  counts  for  something  in  the  act  of  recovering 
any  object  that  we  are  in  want  of  in  that  particular  train.  It 
determines  very  much  the  degree  of  rapidity  of  the  mental 
action  ;  and,  from  this  circumstance,  gives  a  marked  character  to 
the  individual.  It  does  not  confer  intellectual  power — this  de- 
pends on  the  proper  forces  of  the  intellect ;  but  it  favours  prompt- 
ness and  quickness  in  perceiving  whatever  it  is  within  our  power 
to  perceive, — a  quality  often  useful  in  the  emergencies  of  life. 

60.  Cause  and  Effect. — As  a  mode  of  succession,  this  is 
characterized  by  some  transition  of  a  more  or  less  startling 
kind.  It  also  embraces  a  great  many  interests,  from  the  fact 
that  some  important  change  may  be  aimed  at  by  us  ;  and, 
accordingly,  we  desire  to  know  the  antecedent  circmnstance 
that  enables  us  to  produce  it.  That  the  striking  of  a  match 
will  give  a  light  and  bring  about  ignition  is  not  merely  an 
impressive  transition  from  its  abruptness,  but  an  item  of 
practical  knowledge  treasured  up  in  view  of  the  exigencies  of 
life.  The  case  is,  therefore,  one  of  a  visual  or  other  sensible 
coupling,  made  specially  impressive  by  the  two  circumstances 
named.  Owing  to  the  frequency  and  the  range  of  such 
couples,  we  obtain  through  them  a  large  contribution  to  our 
stored  up  knowledge ;  and  the  case  fulfils  in  the  most  ex- 
pressive manner  the  law  of  contiguity  under  the  qualifying 
conditions  enunciated  at    the    outset.     When  a   teacher  is 


452  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

specially  eno;aged  in  conveying  to  pupils  such  knowledge,  he 
is  well  aware  of  the  vantage-ground  that  he  occupies  in 
securing  its  reception  in  their  minds.  The  main  device,  in 
addition  to  the  natural  interest  of  the  cases  in  hand,  is  to 
obtain  for  each  example  a  moment  of  isolated  attention  ;  it 
is  only  distraction  of  mind  that  can  prevent  one  from  readily 
imbibing  sequences  of  clearly  perceived  causation. 

The  foregoing  statement  is  perfectly  general.  Under  it, 
there  are  considerable  and  important  varieties,  although  not 
constituting  any  serious  difficulties  in  applying  the  law  that 
we  are  discussing.  Thus,  we  have  the  wide-ranging  class  of 
visible  or  tangible  mechanical  effects,  which,  numerous  as 
they  are,  comply  perfectly  with  the  general  statement  just 
announced.  There  are  more  subtle  transitions,  known  to 
chemistry  and  to  physiology  whose  peculiarity  is  the 
occasional  absence  of  that  close  and  obvious  transition 
that  is  so  startling  in  a  large  class  of  mechanical  effects. 
With  due  allowance  made  for  such  variations,  the  principles 
that  govern  the  result  are  still  the  same. 

Our  own  exerted  energies  make  up  a  very  large  region 
of  our  known  examples  of  cause  and  effect.  The  obvious 
peculiarity  here  is  the  presence,  in  our  own  sphere  of  con- 
sciousness, of  the  antecedent  circumstance.  This  ever- 
present  antecedent  is  stamped  on  our  recollection  in  a  way 
peculiar  to  itself.  As  an  item  of  knowledge,  it  comes  with- 
in the  sphere  of  what  is  commonly  called  self-consciousness  : 
while  all  men  are  similar  in  the  point  of  its  being  accessible 
to  observation,  they  do  not  all  agree  in  being  equally  atten- 
tive to  its  manifested  display.  This  may  make  a  difference 
in  the  pace  of  acquisition  of  the  department  in  question ; 
while  there  may  be  also  unequal  susceptibility  to  the  recol- 
lection of  it,  irrespective  of  stimulus  to  attention.  Self- 
knowledge — in  other  words,  the  permanent  record  of  our 
own  states  of  consciousness,  as  distinct  from  our  object 
experience — is  a  department  by  itself,  as  contrasted  with 
object  or  sense  knowledge  ;  and  future  chapters  will,  at 
various  points,  reveal  the  contrast. 


CAUSE    AND    EFFECT    IN    LIVING    BEINGS.  453 

61.  There  is  still  a  variety  of  causation,  where  Hving  and 
sentient  beings  occupy  the  place  of  consequent  in  the  causal 
sequence.  This  is  when  the  elfect,  whatever  it  may  be, 
consists  in  something  done  to  a  living  being — man  or  animal. 
All  the  visible  changes  wrought  upon  the  sentient  creatures 
that  come  under  our  observation  awaken  our  attention  more 
or  less,  being  calculated  to  stir  up  feelings  of  a  variety  of 
kinds,  and  of  all  degrees  of  intensity ;  such  feelings  con- 
stituting the  stimulants  to  our  attention,  and  an  aid  to  our 
recollection.  Our  stock  of  engrained  knowledge  of  our  own 
kind  and  of  all  creatures  possessing  sensibility  and  the 
means  of  manifesting  it,  is  made  up  of  causal  experiences,  of 
which  the  consequents  are  of  this  nature.  The  condition 
of  impressiveness  here  is  not  so  exclusively  allied  to  self- 
attention  as  in  the  previous  example.  Our  consciousness  of 
self  is  merely  an  aid  to  the  interpretation  of  an  effect  whose 
main  aspect  is  purely  sensible  or  objective. 

There  now  remains  the  class  of  examples  where  both 
antecedent  and  consequent  are  phases  of  living  bemgs.  A 
familiar  instance  is  a  contest  between  two  men  or  animals. 
The  varieties  of  the  situation,  however,  are  simply  innumer- 
able. It  is  the  region  of  human  interest  as  spectacle,  which 
surpasses  in  extent  almost  every  other.  History,  poetry, 
more  especially  dramatic  poetry,  and  fiction,  are  largely  con- 
stituted by  this  pecuhar  situation.  The  interest  engendered 
by  it  leads  to  the  easy  and  copious  storage  in  the  memory  of 
the  entire  class  of  such  incidents.  The  laws  that  regulate 
the  acquisition  are  in  no  wise  different  from  what  have  been 
already  given  under  the  two  former  heads. 

62.  Our  impression  of  any  individual  man  or  woman  is 
made  up  of  their  permanent  image,  and  of  their  various  move- 
ments and  activity,  in  a  number  of  situations  and  circum- 
stances. Thus,  we  have  seen  some  one  made  angry  ;  we 
connect  the  occurrence  with  the  experience  of  anger  in  our 
own  minds,  and  this  connexion  is  an  item  of  our  knowledge 
of  that  person's  character.  When  the  anger  is  brought  before 
our  view,  we  are  reminded  of  the  cause  ;  when  the  provoca- 


454  EETENTIYENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGriTY. 

tion  is  present,  it  recalls  the  anojer.  We  can  use  the  know- 
ledge of  this  sequence  for  the  purpose  of  either  avoiding  or 
bringing  on  the  effect ;  we  can  reproduce  it  dramatically ;  we 
can  generahze  it  as  a  fact  of  human  nature  ;  we  can  explain 
other  men's  anger  by  it.  Other  sequences  are  noted  in  like 
manner ;  and,  by  sufticient  length  of  time  and  opportunity, 
we  can  associate  cause  and  effect  through  the  whole  cycle 
of  an  individual's  ordinary  actions.  We  are  then  said  to 
know  the  person's  character.  Our  knowledge  of  animals  is 
of  the  same  nature. 

The  peculiar  susceptibility  to  the  human  presence  now 
spoken  of  may  arise  out  of  several  different  sources.  (1)  To 
the  natural  history  mind,  all  visible  imagery  is  impressive, — • 
the  human  face  and  form  among  the  rest.  (2)  The  suscepti- 
bility to  visible  movements  is  a  distinct  element,  and  with  it 
is  connected  the  sense  of  forms — particularly,  the  human  form. 
(3)  The  S3mipathetic  disposition,  as  contrasted  with  the  ego- 
tistic, or  self-engrossed,  is  in  favour  of  the  same  turn  for 
noticing  other  people's  ways.  (4)  The  artistic  sense  finds 
much  of  its  material  in  the  human  subject,  and  is  thereby 
made  alive  to  the  manifestations  of  living  men.  To  all  these 
causes  of  special  attention  to  the  phenomena  of  humanity, 
we  are  to  add  (5)  the  strong  passions  and  emotions  that  have 
our  fellow-beings  for  their  subjects  :  and  we  then  see  how  it 
comes  that  the  natural,  if  not  '  the  proper,  study  of  mankind 
is  man '. 

In  the  foregoing  view,  there  has  been  no  express  mention 
of  scientific  causation. 

MECHANICAL  ACQUISITIONS. 

We  have  now  touched  on  the  chief  fundamental  classes 
of  associated  things  under  Contiguity.  What  remains,  is  to 
carry  out  the  illustration  into  the  several  departments  of 
intellectual  acquirement. 

63.  Under  Mechanical  Acquisitions,  we  include  the 
whole  of  handicraft  industry  and  skill,  as  well  as  the  use  of 
the  bodily    members   in    the    more   obvious  and   universal 


CONDITIONS    OF    MECHANICAL    SKILL.  455 

actions  of  daily  life.  Military  training;  the  exercises  of 
sport,  recreation,  and  amusement ;  the  handling  of  tools  in 
every  kind  of  manual  operation ;  the  care  of  the  person, — are 
all  so  many  acquired  or  artificial  linkings  of  action  with 
action,  or  action  with  sensation,  through  the  operation  of 
contiguous  adhesiveness. 

The  first  element  of  Mechanical  Acquisitions  concerns 
the  quality  of  the  active  instrument — the  musdes.  All  the 
circumstances  formerly  described  (p.  353)  as  special  to  the 
association  of  movements — Muscular  Strength,  Spontaneity, 
and  Delicacy  of  Discrimination, — co-operate  in  promoting  our 
muscular  acquirements. 

The  next  thing  to  be  taken  into  account  is  the  delicacy  of 
the  sense  concerned  in  the  work  produced.  If  the  operation 
is  to  make  a  paste,  or  bring  out  a  polish.  Touch  is  the  testing 
organ,  and  must  have  the  requisite  delicacy  ;  if  the  work  is 
judged  by  colour,  the  Eye  must  be  duly  sensitive  ;  if  to  play 
on  an  instrument,  the  Ear  must  discriminate  the  shades  of 
sound.  However  flexible  and  powerful  be  the  active  instru- 
ment, It  can  never  transcend  our  conscious  measure  of  the 
effect  produced.  The  most  delicate  fingers  are  useless  for 
musical  performance,  when  the  ear  is  wanting  in  a  corre- 
sponding delicacy  of  musical  perception.* 

Thirdly,  we  need  to  estimate  the  motives  to  concentrated 
attention.  Of  these,  the  chief  is  a  taste,  interest,  or  liking  for 
the  occupation  itself  ;  and,  next  in  order,  must  be  ranked  an 
agreeable  end  to  be  gained  by  means  of  it.  The  special  fasci- 
nation for  handicraft  industry,  manifested  in  some  constitu- 

*  As  regards  many  kinds  of  mechanical  manipulation,  the  muscular 
sensibility  counts  twice,  being  a  property  of  the  organ,  and  also  a  property 
of  the  sense.  Thus,  in  handling  a  dough,  or  tightening  a  string,  the  sense 
concerned  is  muscular,  and  the  nice  graduation  of  the  arm  and  hand  to  suit 
the  desired  effect  is  also  a  muscular  discrimination.  Hence,  manual  tact,  or 
skill  in  working  with  tools  or  instruments,  is  doubly  dependent  on  the 
muscular  endowment.  Even  where  the  effect  is  judged,  not  tactually,  or  so 
as  to  bring  in  the  sense  of  resistance,  but  by  the  eye,  the  ear,  or  the  taste, 
the  flexibility  and  measured  graduation  of  the  active  organ  involves  the  dis- 
criminative feeling  of  expended  power,  which  attaches  to  the  muscular  sj'stem, 
and  is.  no  doubt,  unequally  manifested  in  different  constitutions. 


456  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

tions,  is  a  mixed  feeling.  Part  of  it,  however, — perhaps  the 
largest  part, — comes  from  the  muscular  and  sensitive  endow- 
ments themselves  :  when  these  are  of  a  high  order,  there  is 
apt  to  be  an  accoinpanying  charm  in  their  exercise.  The 
mere  possession  of  the  elements  of  skill — the  hand  and  the 
sense — makes  it  a  pleasure  to  exercise  them.  This  is  not 
merely  from  the  distinction  of  superiority  (an  added  motive 
of  no  mean  force) ,  but  also  from  the  concurrence  of  a  certain 
amount  of  feeling  with  every  considerable  endowment.  If 
we  have  a  powerful  and  flexible  active  organ,  we  are  grati- 
fied by  its  exercise.  In  like  manner,  as  to  the  sense  con- 
cerned, we  cannot  have  a  nice  ear  for  musical  pitch,  such  as 
would  favour  musical  acquirements,  without  being  suscep- 
tible to  the  pleasure  of  music  ;  and  the  same  is  true  of  colour. 

The  remoter  objects  of  the  mind,  involved  in  mechanical 
aptitude,  are  the  pleasure  of  power  in  producing"  effects,  and 
the  satisfaction  of  the  wants  and  desires  that  are  the  final 
end  of  industrial  occupation.  Apart  from  the  motives  of 
subsistence  and  gain,  there  is,  in  many  individuals,  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  interest  in  mechanical  operations,  attri- 
butable to  the  possession  of  the  main  aptitudes  for  the  work. 
Gardening,  carpentry,  carving,  and  other  mechanical  arts, 
are  adopted  among  the  recreations  of  leisure  hours,  no  less 
than  music.  Louis  the  Sixteenth's  lock-making  has  a  place 
in  history. 

64.  We  must  now  advert  to  those  circumstances  aiding 
mechanical  acquisition  that  depend,  not  on  the  inborn 
peculiarities,  but  on  the  manner  of  going  to  work.  This  is 
the  practical  point.  The  practice  of  drilling  recruits  in  the 
army  may  be  taken  as  indicating  the  results  of  long  experi- 
ence in  one  department  of  acquisition.  The  procedure  at 
present  followed  may  be  described  thus  : — In  summer  the 
recruit  is  maintained  at  drill  four  hours  in  the  day.  One 
hour  is  taken  before  breakfast — six  to  seven  a.m.  A  second, 
nine  to  ten  ;  a  third,  eleven  to  twelve ;  and  the  fourth  after 
dinner — two  to  three  p.m.  AVith  the  omission  of  the  morning 
hour,  the  same  times  are  observed  in  winter.     The  general 


DRILL    IN    THE    ARMY.  457 

considerations  that  require  to  be  attended  to  in  securing  the 
maximum  of  efficiency  would  seem  to  be  these  : — In  the 
first  place,  the  moments  of  greatest  bodily  vigour  and  fresh- 
ness are  to  be  selected.  In  the  next  place,  the  exercise  ought 
not  to  be  continued  too  long  at  a  time  :  when  the  muscles 
and  brain  are  once  thoroughly  fatigued,  the  plasticity  is  at 
an  end ;  nothing  is  gained  by  persisting  further.  Lastly, 
the  lessons  ought  not  to  be  too  short :  that  is  to  say,  a 
certain  time  is  requisite  to  get  the  body  into  the  set  that 
the  exercises  require.  Scarcely  any  exercise  of  less  than 
half  an  hour's  duration,  will  take  a  decided  hold  of  the 
human  system.  To  hit  the  mean  between  the  period  of 
thorough  engagement  of  the  organs  in  the  work  on  hand, 
and  the  period  of  excessive  fatigue,  constitutes  the  practical 
judgment  of  the  drill-master  in  every  department.  In  the 
army,  where  the  time  of  the  learners  is  completely  under 
command,  the  system  of  four  daily  exercises  with  inter- 
vals of  rest  and  refreshment  is  chosen  as  the  best  arrange- 
ment on  the  whole :  the  mental  distaste  apt  to  be  generated 
by  occupying  the  entire  strength  of  the  system  upon  one 
class  of  operations,  is  not  taken  into  account.  In  the 
discipline  of  early  education  in  general,  there  is  more 
variety  of  interest,  and  it  is  possible  to  occupy  nearly  half 
the  day  continuously  upon  the  work.  But  the  army  system 
is  the  model,  in  circumstances  where  it  is  practicable  to 
bring  the  pupils  together,  early  morning,  forenoon,  and 
afternoon. 

The  rule  for  the  exercises  of  the  learner  is  very  different 
from  the  rule  for  the  practised  workman  at  his  work.  In 
this  last  case,  long  continued  and  uninterrupted  application 
is  best.  But,  in  learning  a  new  thing,  the  stress  of  the  atten- 
tion very  soon  fatigues  the  brain ;  so  does  the  committing  of 
blunders  and  false  steps.  Moreover,  the  organs  unhabituated 
to  an  operation  are  less  able  to  sustain  it.  When,  however, 
the  mechanical  routine  is  perfect,  and  the  parts  are 
strengthened  by  long  practice,  it  is  better  to  continiie  at  work 
for  a  number  of  consecutive  hours. 


458  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

The  youth  learning  a  trade  keeps  the  same  hours  as  the 
workman,  and  is  not  treated  as  an  army  recruit  or  a  school- 
boy. In  his  circumstances,  the  plan  of  proceeding  is  different. 
The  apprentice,  having  gained  some  one  single  step,  before 
taking  another,  goes  on  repeating  that  process  exactly  as  a 
productive  workman.  His  education  is  spread  over  a  longer 
time,  and  is  largely  diluted  with  routine  work.  This  alone 
makes  his  situation  tolerable  during  the  long  hours  of  the 
working  day.  It  is  when  the  rate  of  acquisition  is  pushed 
to  the  uttermost,  and  actual  production  is  disregarded,  that 
the  system  of  long  intervals  of  rest  is  most  necessary. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  learner's  progress  is  vitally  de- 
pendent on  the  absence  of  any  other  engrossing  passion  or 
pursuit.  This  makes  it  of  so  great  consequence  to  have  a 
liking  for  the  subject. 

VOCAL  OR  LINGUAL  ACQUISITIONS. 

Mthough  the  acquisitions  of  the  articulating  organs,  in 
speech  and  languages,  follow  the  very  same  general  laws  as 
other  mechanical  acquirements,  then-  importance  as  a  branch 
of  human  intelligence  claims  for  them  a  special  notice.  I 
shall  advert  first  to  the  vocal  exercise  of  singing. 

65.  The  acquiring  of  musical  airs  and  harmonies  by  the 
voice  depends  on  the  Vocal  Organs,  and  on  the  Ear,  aided 
by  certain  Sensibilities  that  may  be  supposed  to  pass  beyond 
the  ear. 

As  regards  the  Vocal  Organs  themselves,  the  conditions 
are  those  already  stated  for  the  muscular  aptitudes  generally. 
To  the  first  and  second  conditions — Vigour  and  Spontaneity, — 
we  must  add,  if  not  implied,  natural  Compass  or  flexibility. 
The  third  condition — the  delicate  Discrimination  of  degrees 
of  vocal  expenditure — is  what  most  decisively  operates  in  fine 
execution,  as  well  as  being  the  test  of  vocal  retentiveness. 

Next  comes  the  Ear,  the  regulator  of  the  effects  produced 
by  the  spontaneity  of  the  Voice.  With  a  view  to  music,  as 
already  noticed,  the  ear  must  be  discriminatingly  sensitive 
to   pitch,   and    thence   to    harmonies   and  discords.       This 


AETICULATE    SPEECH.  459 

sensitiveness  guides  the  action  of  the  voice,  and  reduces 
its  wild  utterances  to  regular  modes  productive  of  musical 
effect. 

We  also  take  for  granted  that  a  discriminative  ear  will 
be  a  retentive  ear,  so  far  as  the  retentiveness  depends  on  the 
quality  of  the  sense.  The  enjoyment  derived  from  the  art 
is,  as  in  other  cases,  a  motive  to  the  attention. 

The  acquisition  of  Instrumental  music  may  be  explained 
by  substituting,  for  the  voice,  the  action  of  the  hands  or  the 
mouth,  other  things  remaining  the  same. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  apply  a  test  to  the  musical 
adhesiveness  of  different  persons,  by  fixing  upon  a  corre- 
sponding stage  of  progress,  and  counting  the  number  of 
repetitions  necessary  to  learn  a  melody. 

66.  In  Articulate  Speech,  we  have,  likewise,  a  case  of 
vocal  execution  guided  by  the  ear,  but  with  some  differences 
as  respects  both  the  action  and  the  feeling.  The  power  of 
articulating  includes  a  new  series  of  movements— those  of  the 
mouth  ;  while  the  nice  graduation  of  the  force  of  the  chest 
and  of  the  tension  of  the  vocal  chords,  required  in  singing,  is 
here  dispensed  with.  The  sensitiveness  of  the  ear  to  articu- 
late sounds  partly  agrees  with,  and  partly  differs  from,  the 
musical  sense. 

The  first  stage  of  speaking  is  the  utterance  of  simple 
vowels,  or  of  simple  consonants  with  vowels  attached, — as 
vx(,  Ilia, 'pa,  hum.  The  sound  '  «A  '  is  probably  the  easiest 
exertion  of  the  mouth  ;  the  other  vowels,  e,  i,  o,  u,  would 
seem  more  difficult  positions.  The  labial  consonants,  m,  p, 
b,  usually,  but  not  always,  precede  the  dental  and  guttural; 
the  closing  of  the  lips  being  a  very  easy  effort.  The  dental 
letters,  d,  1,  t,  n,  and  the  gutturals,  Z',  g,  are  perhaps  equally 
easy  by  nature ;  the  aspirates  are  more  complex  and  diffi- 
cult. Of  the  vibrating  sounds,  the  hissing  action  of  the  s 
is  sooner  arrived  at  than  the  burr  of  the  r.  For  this  last 
letter,  /  and  tc  are  used — as  Inn,  wun,  for  rmi. 

Xew  difficulties  appear,  in  the  attempts  to  combine  two 
consonants  into  one  utterance;  as  in  syllables  that  begin  and 


460  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

end  with  a  consonant.  Some  of  these  are  found  easier  than 
others  :  mam  is  easier  than  man,  and  this  than  mug  ;  for  the 
reason  that  it  is  less  difdcult  to  combine  two  labials,  than  a 
labial  with  a  dental  or  a  guttural.  The  effect  is  seen  in  the 
word-compounds  of  all  languages. 

There  are  two  stages  in  the  acquirement  of  articulate 
sounds :  the  first  is  the  stage  of  Spontaneous  utterances ;  and 
the  second  the  stage  of  Imitation.  In  both,  the  natural  flexi- 
bility or  variety  of  the  organs  must  be  coupled  with  delicacy 
of  the  ear  for  articulate  effects,  in  order  to  make  rapid  progress. 

The  joining  of  syllables  and  words  into  continuous  speech 
brings  into  play  a  further  exercise  of  the  associating  principle. 

AYe  must,  next,  add  the  element  of  Intonation  or  Cadence. 
This  is  among  the  accessories  of  musical  effect,  having  little 
in  common  with  the  principal  circumstances  in  Music, — 
namely,  pitch,  with  its  harmonies,  and  time.  In  speaking, 
the  voice  rises  and  falls  in  pitch,  but  not  with  any  nice  or 
measured  gradation  ;  the  degrees  of  stress  or  emphasis,  the 
alternate  rise  and  fall,  the  descent  and  gradual  subsidence  at 
the  close, — are  among  the  characteristics  of  cadence,  or  the 
music  of  speech.  A  great  susceptibility  to  intonation  marks 
some  constitutions  ;  when  coupled  with  a  flexible  articula- 
tion, it  is  the  gift  of  the  elocutionist. 

The  earliest  acquisitions  of  the  purely  verbal  kind — short 
familiar  forms  of  speech,  prayers,  rhymes,  and  stories — are 
examples  of  pure  verbal  adhesiveness.  They  depend  upon 
the  circumstances  contributing  to  verbal  memory  all  through 
life.  If  we  try  to  fix  the  probable  order  of  importance  of 
the  several  conditions,  we  shall  have  to  place  first  the 
Articulate  Ear,  and  next  the  Vocal  endowment,  as  regards 
Articulation  ;  it  being  a  rule  of  the  constitution,  for  which 
there  is  abundant  evidence,  that  the  sensitive  side  of  the 
cerebral  organization  is  more  receptive  and  retentive  than 
the  active  side.  The  general  conditions  of  Ketentiveness 
are  assumed  as  usual.  A  suitable  natural  adhesiveness 
is  presumed.  The  motives  to  Concentration  are  numerous 
and    various ;  but    they  relate    principally   to  the    subject- 


LEARNING  THE  MOTHER  TONGUE.  461 

matter,  which  will  be  adverted  to  in  next  paragraph.  Apart 
from  the  matter,  there  may  be  great  liking  or  enjoyment  of 
articulate  exercises ;  for  which  the  chief  foundation  would 
be  the  saine  full  development  of  voice  and  of  ear,  rendering 
them  adhesive  without  regard  to  the  concentrated  attention. 

In  remembering  long  poems,  as  in  the  case  of  the  ancient 
bards  (not  the  composers),  in  the  kind  of  erudition  ascribed 
to  the  Druids,  in  the  power  that  some  persons  have  of  re- 
collecting long  speeches  by  rote,  and  in  great  lingual  ac- 
quisitions generally,  we  have  examples  of  the  mere  verbal 
memory.  It  must  also  enter  as  an  element  into  high 
literary  power  of  every  kind.  In  estimating  the  genius  of 
Shakespeare,  we  should  have  to  begin  by  assigning  him  a 
very  large  share  of  this  purely  verbal  aptitude. 

67.  The  acquisition  of  the  Mother  Tongue  supposes,  not 
merely  the  cohesion  of  strings  of  words  heard  and  uttered, 
but  also  the  association  of  names  with  things,  or  meanings. 
We  associate  the  names  'fire,'  'table,'  'John,'  with  the  objects 
themselves.  AVe  further  associate  groups  of  words — w^hole 
sentences  and  trains  of  sentences — with  objects,  situations, 
actions,  purposes,  feelings,  and  so  on.  This  refers  us  back  to 
the  law  of  heterogeneous  association  (§  32),  whereby  the 
adhesion  between  two  things  is  ruled  by  the  respective 
tenacity  or  persistence  of  each  ;  the  strong  pictorial  mind, 
for  example,  being  disposed  to  remember  better  the  names 
of  visible  objects.  Whatever  contributes  to  the  interest  or 
impressiveness  of  the  subject-matter  increases  the  facility 
of  remembering  the  names.  The  strain  of  diction  is  thus  a 
clue  to  the  things  that  have  engaged  and  arrested  the  mind. 
Swift  could  have  acquired  the  magniloquence  of  Milton,  and 
Milton  might  have  made  himself  thoroughly  familiar  (as  he 
was,  in  some  degree,  in  his  prose)  with  the  coarseness  of 
Swift,  so  far  as  concerned  mere  verbal  acquisition  ;  but  their 
vocabularies  were  made  up  under  their  respective  preferences 
for  the  subject-matter.  In  reading  authors  for  the  acqui- 
sition of  style,  it  is  of  importance  that  the  subject  should 
itself  be  interesting :  writers  may  be  of  the  highest  repute 


462  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

as  classics  in  the  language,  but,  if  their  ideas  have  become 
obsolete  or  insipid,  we  are  very  little  impressed  by  their 
diction  or  vocabulary. 

Written  Language  introduces  the  adhesiveness  of  the  eye 
for  Forms — a  very  powerful  adjunct  in  verbal  memory;  being 
an  important  aid  in  the  mother  tongue,  and  a  principal  bond 
of  adhesion  in  the  scholarly  recollection  of  languages. 

68.  In  acquiring  Foreign  Languages  by  the  usual  methods, 
we  have  more  of  the  purely  verbal  associations  than  in  the 
ixiother  tongue.  We  do  not  usually  connect  the  names  of  a 
foreign  language  with  the  objects,  but  with  the  names  already 
learnt.  We  may  connect  sound  with  sound  (as  when  we  are 
taught  orally),  articulation  with  articulation,  or  mark  with 
mark  to  the  eye.  Thus  '  domus  '  and  '  house  '  may  be  asso- 
ciated as  two  sounds,  two  articulations,  or  two  sights;  usually, 
we  have  the  help  of  all  three  ways  of  linking.  If  we  include 
the  act  of  writing  down  words,  which  embodies  them  also  in 
the  nerve  centres  of  the  arm  and  hand  (besides  concentrating 
the  eye),  there  are  no  less  than  four  lines  of  adhesion,  m- 
volving  two  senses  and  two  modes  of  mechanical  exertion. 

In  the  absence  of  a  good  contiguous  adhesiveness  for 
indifferent  objects,  such  as  arbitrary  sounds  and  symbols, 
lingual  acquisitions  are  necessarily  laborious  and  difficult. 

69.  Oratorical  Acquisition  introduces  the  element  of 
Cadence.  This  is  partly  created  in  ourselves  by  the  spon- 
taneous flow  of  voice  becoming  modified,  to  please  each  per- 
son's own  ear ;  by  which  means  we  have  originality  of  cadence, 
whether  the  quaUty  of  the  creation  be  high  or  low.  But,  for 
the  most  part,  it  is  acquired  by  hearing  others,  like  vocal 
melodies.  Many  forms  of  cadence  prevail  in  human  speech. 
Each  nation  has  characteristic  strains  of  this  kind :  the 
foreigner,  however  perfect  in  the  pronunciation  of  the  words 
of  another  language,  is  detected  by  the  absence  of  the  national 
manner  in  his  spoken  melody.  Provinces  differ  in  the  same 
country :  English,  Irish,  and  Scotch  have  their  peculiar 
strains.  The  orator  is  a  man  able  to  produce  a  great  variety 
of  the  richest  cadences,  just  as  a  singer  has  the  command  of 


ELEMENT    OF    CADENCE.  463 

many  vocal  melodies.  To  lit  articulate  language  into  the 
forms  and  falls  of  musical  articulation  is  the  orator's  art. 
We  have  no  artificial  means  of  expressing  or  representing 
the  oratorical  rh3^thm,  so  as  to  preserve  the  manner  of  a 
great  orator,  or  to  mark  the  differences  betw^een  one  cadence 
and  another  ;  the  notation  of  the  elocution  manuals  is  not 
carried  far  enough  for  that.  But  we  can  readily  specify 
the  general  conditions  of  oratorical  acquirement.  The 
abundant  and  various  action  of  the  voice  by  primitive  con- 
stitution, the  susceptible  ear,  the  opportunity  of  hearing 
many  and  good  varieties  of  the  elocutionist's  displays,  and 
a  strong  sustaining  interest  in  this  particular  effect,  are  the 
essentials  ;  a  good  general  adhesiveness  concurring. 

Cadence,  although  properly  a  spoken  effect,  is  transparent 
through  written  composition.  In  pronouncing  the  language 
of  Johnson  or  of  Milton,  we  fall  into  a  distinct  strain  :  this, 
too,  we  can  acquire  and  impress  upon  compositions  of  our 
own.  We  naturally  drink  in  such  cadences  as  are  most 
suitable  to  the  natural  march  of  our  own  vocal  organs,  and 
such  as  possess  th-a  greatest  charm. 

The  Metrical  form  of  language  imparts  a  special  pleasure 
to  the  ear ;  and  most  minds  are  disposed  to  remember  by 
preference  composition  in  verse.  As  illustrative  of  remark- 
able metrical  susceptibility — Pope  '  lisp'd  in  numbers,  for 
the  numbers  came '. 

RETENTIVENESS  IN  SCIENCE. 

70.  By  Science,  I  here  understand  the  artificial  sym- 
bolism and  machinery,  requisite  for  expressing  the  laws  and 
properties  of  the  world,  as  distinguished  from  the  actual 
appearances  of  things  to  the  common  eye, — of  which  I  have 
already  spoken  under  the  heads  of  natural  conjunctions, 
successions,  etc.  Thus,  a  treatise  on  Astronomy  is  a  mass  of 
algebraical  calculations  and  numerical  tables.  Nothing  can 
well  be  more  unlike  the  aspects  of  sun,  moon,  and  planets, 
than  the  formulae  and  tables  expressing  the  scientific  relations 
of  these  bodies. 


464  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

The  Object  sciences  range  from  the  extremely  abstract 
and  symbolical — such  as  Mathematics,  where  nature  in  its  ob- 
vious guise  is  utterly  excluded — to  the  more  concrete  subjects 
of  Natural  History,  wherein  some  part  at  least  of  the  acqui- 
sition consists  in  storing  up  the  common  appearances  of 
animals,  plants,  and  minerals.  The  conditions  of  the  ac- 
quirement differ,  according  as  any  branch  is  nearer  the  one 
or  the  other  extreme.  Thus,  theoretical  Mechanics,  As- 
tronomy, and  Optics,  come  under  the  mathematical  class. 
The  experimental  parts  of  Chemistry,  Physiology,  Anatomy, 
approach  the  other  end  of  the  scale :  in  these,  the  ad- 
hesiveness of  the  natural  history  mind  for  sensible  appear- 
ances and  properties,  is  of  the  highest  consequence. 

To  advert  to  the  more  abstract  sciences,  which  represent 
science  as  most  opposed  to  our  unscientific  images  and 
notions  of  the  things  about  us.  The  symbols  of  Arithmetic 
and  Mathematics  in  general,  the  symbols  and  nomenclature 
of  Chemistry  (combining  proportions,  atoms,  etc.),  the  nomen- 
clature and  abstractions  of  Physiology  (cells,  corpuscles, 
ultimate  fibres,  secreting  glands),  require  a  peculiar  cast  of 
intellect  for  their  acquisition  ;  and  they  are  so  far  of  a  piece 
that  the  mental  adhesiveness  suited  for  one  would  not  be 
much  at  fault  in  any  other.  They  are  a  collection  of  bare 
forms  not  remarkably  numerous,  which  are  to  be  held  in 
the  mind  with  great  tenacity,  and  to  be  accepted  as  the 
sole  representatives  of  the  phenomena.  The  self-denial 
that  enables  us  to  dwell  among  algebraical  symbols,  con- 
centrating the  force  of  the  brain  upon  them,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  all  those  things  that  gratify  the  various  senses  and 
emotions, — this  abnegation,  so  to  speak,  of  human  interest, 
is  the  moral  peculiarity  of  the  mathematician.  It  is  not 
necessary  that  the  mathematical  mind  should  be  entirely 
destitute  of  attraction  for  colour  and  beauty,  and  picturesque- 
ness,  and  music  ;  but  it  is  necessary  for  such  a  mind  to  cast 
all  these  out  of  the  view,  and  to  grapple  with  the  artificial 
symbols  that  express  the  important  truths  of  the  world. 
The  interest  in  attaining  the  sure  and  certain  laws  of  the 


ACQUISITIONS   IN   ABSTRACT    SCIENCE.  465 

universe,  is  the  motive  for  immersing  the  mind  in  such  a 
cheerless  labyrinth  of  uncouth  characters.  This  motive  being 
once  strong  in  an  individual,  the  other  chief  requisite  is 
great  natural  adhesivenessfor  arbitrary  symbols, — an  adhesive- 
ness that,  if  depending  on  local  causes,  results,  in  a  consider- 
able measure,  from  the  moderate  degree  of  the  competing 
sensibility  of  the  eye — the  feeling  of  Colour.  The  symbols 
of  a  science  are  few  in  comparison  with  the  words  of  a 
language ;  but  the  hold  of  the  one  must  be  much  more  severe 
than  of  the  other.  A  circle  used  as  a  diagram  in  Euclid, 
must  make  a  deeper  impression  than  a  circle  as  an  alpha- 
betic letter.  With  Euclid's  circle  has  to  be  associated  in- 
numerable lines  and  constructions,  which  can  never  be  all 
presented  to  the  eye  at  one  time,  but  must  be  firmly  held 
in  idea  alone,  ready  to  be  brought  up  on  the  hint  being 
given.  To  the  alphabetical  circle,  there  is  no  such  array  of 
ideal  appendages  ;  it  is  conceived  simply  as  it  can  be  written, 
and  only  as  regards  its  visible  difference  from  the  other 
letters  of  the  same  alphabet.  It  is  this  complication  of 
visible  figures,  with  a  multitude  of  associates  not  possible 
to  exhibit  at  once  to  the  eye,  and  which  yet  must  all  be 
at  command,  that  gives  such  an  intellectual  character  to 
scientific  reasonings.  The  Geometrician  must  retain,  in 
connexion  with  a  circle,  all  the  constructions  of  Euclid's 
Third  Book,  and,  if  need  be,  all  the  constructions  that 
precede  and  give  foundation  to  these,  and,  likewise,  the 
language  that  represents  in  words  what  cannot  be  presented 
to  the  eye ;  all  which  puts  to  a  severe  test  the  cerebral 
adhesiveness  for  uninteresting  forms.  Moreover,  this  ad- 
hesion must  rapidly  get  firm  at  every  step,  otherwise  the 
earlier  steps  of  a  deduction  would  be  lost  before  the  later 
were  fixed.  In  an  algebraical  problem,  where  x  is  put  for 
one  thing,  and  y  for  another,  the  learner  must,  by  the  force 
of  a  single  repetition,  remember  all  through  that  these  letters 
stand  for  such  and  such  things.  Persons  not  rapidly  im- 
pressed with  these  arbitrary  connexions,  are  unqualified  for 
mathematics. 

30 


466  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

In  Arithmetic,  the  ciphers,  their  additions,  subtractions, 
multipHcations,  and  the  decimal  system  of  reckoning,  are  of 
the  nature  of  associations  of  symbohcal  forms,  and  require 
the  firm  concentration  of  the  mind  upon  arbitrary  signs  for 
the  sake  of  the  end  they  serve.  In  Algebra,  the  same  opera- 
tion is  carried  to  a  higher  complexitj',  but  without  any  dif- 
ference in  the  nature  of  the  machinery.  In  Geometry,  a 
host  of  definitions  have  to  be  remembered  ;  that  is,  a  hne,  a 
space,  a  square,  a  circle,  must  be  associated  with  certain 
other  lines  and  constructions,  with  the  assistance  of  lan- 
guage. '  A  circle  is  a  line  equally  distant  from  a  central 
point.'  The  association  here  is  between  the  visible  aspect 
of  the  circle,  with  its  central  point,  and  a  line  drawn  from 
the  centre  to  the  circumference  ;  which  line  is  a  representa- 
tive line,  and  may  be  drawn  anywhere  round  the  whole 
compass  of  the  figure.  This  principle  of  representation  is  a 
thing  of  the  intellect  entirely;  for,  in  addition  to  the  sensible 
object,  there  is  a  fact,  or  a  multitude  of  facts,  that  cannot  be 
made  apparent  to  the  eye  at  one  and  the  same  moment. 

In  the  ex'perimental  and  concrete  sciences — as  Heat,  Elec- 
tricity, Chemistry,  Anatomy,  and  Natural  History  in  general, 
— the  consideration  of  the  actual  appearances  to  the  senses 
mixes  largely  with  the  artificial  symbols  and  abstractions  ; 
and  hence  the  value  of  a  good  adhesiveness  for  colour  and 
shape,  for  touch,  and  even  for  taste  and  smell,  in  storing  up 
the  objects  of  those  sciences.  The  Mathematical  mind  may 
be  quite  at  fault  here,  just  as  the  Natural  History  mind  is 
apt  to  be  unsuited  for  the  mathematical  group  of  subjects. 
In  Anatomy,  for  example,  there  is  a  vast  detail  of  bones, 
ligaments,  muscles,  blood-vessels,  nerves,  etc. ;  and  the  visual 
adhesiveness  for  mere  colour  is  an  element  in  the  recollec- 
tion, as  with  a  map,  or  a  pictorial  landscape.  The  tactual 
adhesiveness  is  of  some  value  in  this  class  of  objects,  and  in 
the  various  objects  of  the  natural  history  class — minerals, 
plants,  and  animals,  all  which  are  handled  as  well  as  seen. 
Thus  it  is  that  there  are,  for  the  Object  sciences,  two 
classes  of  scientific  minds,  represented  by  the  extreme  terms. 


EXPERIMENTAL    AND    CONCRETE    SCIENCES.  467 

Mathematics  and  Natural  History — the  abstract  or  artificial, 
and  the  concrete  or  real.  As  regards  the  modes  of  human 
interest  or  fascination,  a  greater  number  of  classes  could  be 
made  out :  pure  mathematics,  as  in  Algebra  and  Geometry, 
would  have  a  different  set  of  votaries  from  mathematics 
applied  in  Mechanics,  x\stronomy,  Optics,  etc.  ;  and  the 
natural  history  group  would  be  both  separated  from  experi- 
mental Physics  and  Chemistry,  and  broken  up  into  its 
component  members,  Mineralogy,  Geology,  Botany,  and 
Zoology. 

71.  In  the  next  place,  as  regards  the  Sub.ject  world, 
we  have  one  comprehensive  science,  termed  Mind,  Mental 
Science,  Mental  Philosophy,  Psychology,  etc. 

Although  the  science  of  mind  comprehends  many  pheno- 
mena of  an  object  character, — namely,  all  the  outward  or 
observed  accompaniments  of  mind,  and  all  the  outward  dis- 
plays of  human  action,  thought,  and  feeling, — it  is,  nevertheless, 
essentially  based  on  the  consciousness  possessed  by  each  of 
our  own  mental  states.  The  taking  cognizance  of  the  facts  of 
our  own  mind,  as  phenomena  to  be  known  and  studied,  is  one 
of  the  meanings  of  the  name  '  consciousness  '.  A  better 
designation  is  self-consciousness,  or  the  power  of  introspection. 
Locke  applies  the  name  '  Reflexion '  to  this  operation  ;  it  has 
also  been  called  the  Internal  Sense,  because  it  is,  to  the  subject 
world,  what  the  External  Senses  are  to  the  object  world. 

There  is,  in  some  individuals,  a  special  aptitude  for  this 
department  of  knowledge.  An  abundant  recollection  of  sub- 
ject states — of  feelings  and  ideas  considered  as  to  their  mental 
sequences — is  necessary  to  the  mental  philosopher,  and  is  of 
value  to  all  persons  requiring  a  knowledge  of  mind  for  their 
respective  vocations ;  among  whom  we  may  instance  the 
poet,  the  novelist,  the  historian,  the  orator,  the  politician, 
the  teacher,  the  preacher. 

It  is  no  easy  matter  to  lay  down  the  precise  intellectual 
conditions  of  the  special  retentiveness  for  the  phenomena  of 
mind.  We  have  not  here  the  advantage  of  a  distinct  orgfan 
to  appeal  to,  as  with  the  pictorial  memory,  or  the  musical 


468  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

memory  ;  and  yet  it  is  an  indisputable  fact,  that  feelings  and 
the  successions  of  ideas,  considered  as  knowledge,  are  better 
discriminated,  identified,  and  remembered  by  some  men  than 
by  others.  A  good  general  adhesiveness,  coupled  with  a 
motive  to  concentrated  attention  on  the  laws  of  mind,  would 
obviously  go  a  considerable  way.  But,  if  we  are  further  to 
inquire  into  the  circumstances  that  confer  a  select  and 
special  power  of  retaining  subject  states  in  the  memory, — 
like  the  susceptibility  to  colour  applied  to  the  recollection 
of  visible  images, — we  have  only  negative  conditions  to 
appeal  to.  Given  a  certain  plastic  energy  of  the  mind, 
that  energy  will  be  directed,  either  upon  the  object  world, 
or  upon  the  subject,  or  upon  both,  in  varying  proportions. 
If  there  be  an  almost  exclusive  bent  towards  the  outward, 
there  will  be  the  minimum  of  attention  paid  to  the  inner 
world  of  the  subjective  consciousness.  If  the  outer  world 
attracts  us  in  only  a  moderate  degree,  there  will  be  large 
surplus  of  force  available  for  the  other.  Now,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  assign  the  forces  and  dispositions  that  constitute 
our  Object  regards.  They  follow  strictly  the  object  side  of 
our  being, — namely,  movement  in  the  first  instance,  and, 
in  the  next,  those  sensations  that,  by  connecting  them- 
selves closely  with  movement,  are  looked  upon  as  object 
properties. 

Perhaps  the  foremost  circumstance  inclining  to  the  objec- 
tive point  of  view  is  a  great  endowment  for  muscular  action 
in  all  its  forms.  In  some  minds,  the  forces  of  the  system  are 
profusely  inclined  towards  bodily  movement,  and  activity. 
This  induces  a  preponderating  object  attitude,  and  a  corre- 
spondingly reduced  subject  attitude.  A  certain  share  of 
subject  existence  must  fall  to  every  sentient  being:  pleasure 
and  pain  must  always  be  recognized  and  acted  on.  But  the 
subject  existence  may  amount  to  little  beyond  pleasure  and 
pain,  as  motives  to  the  will.  That  further  tendency,  of 
making  these  a  matter  for  study  and  reflexion,  will  be  pre- 
vented by  the  intense  proneness  to  bodily  movement.  When 
the  outward  prompting  is  less  than  ordinary,  the  purely 


SUBJECT    SCIENCES — KNOWLEDGE    OF    THE    MIND.        469 

subject  existence  occupies  a  larger  space ;  the  feelings  and 
ideas,  being  more  attended  to,  are  better  known  and  remem- 
bered. 

It  is  well  known  that  when  bodily  vigour  is  high,  and  the 
disposition  to  exert  it  correspondingly  great,  self-conscious- 
ness in  all  its  forms  is  at  a  low  ebb.  Obversely,  advancing 
years,  sickness,  and  confinement  of  the  energies,  throw  the 
mind  upon  itself  and  bring  forth  the  points  of  introspective 
regard,  in  the  shape  of  greater  knowledge  of  the  human  feel- 
ings, more  sympathy  with  others,  a  moralizing  tendency,  and 
ethical  self-examination. 

Next  to  the  disposition  towards  bodily  energy,  we  must 
rank,  as  anti-subjective  tendencies,  the  sensations  of  the 
leading  object  senses, — as  Sight,  Hearing,  and  Touch.  A 
strong  sensibility  to  colour,  to  form,  or  to  articulate  utter- 
ance, operates  in  the  direction  of  object  regards ;  if  those 
sensibilities  are  only  average,  or  below  average,  in  a  mind  of 
great  compass,  a  large  share  of  attention  will  fall  upon  the 
subject  states.  We  can  never  extinguish  the  object  regards: 
when,  as  sometimes  happens,  they  are  too  low  for  the 
purposes  of  mental  study,  the  mind  must  exemplify  its 
powers  by  working  in  the  object  attitude,  in  order  that  we 
may  study  these  powers. 

The  subjective  mind  is  more  than  usually  alive  to  its 
organic  states, — which  have  very  little  object  reference. 
These  feelings  direct  us  mostly  to  the  body  itself,  which 
is  no  doubt  an  object,  as  being  a  part  of  the  extended,  but, 
in  contemplating  it,  we  are  not  led  out  of  self  in  the  same 
decided  manner  as  in  viewing  other  objects.  Indeed,  by  fix- 
ing the  gaze  on  our  own  sensitive  parts,  we  may  produce  a 
new  subject  sensibility,  owing  to  the  associations  that  con- 
nect them  so  strongly  w'ith  our  feelings.* 

*  The  tendencies  of  theniind  towards  sensation,  or  the  actual,  are  opposed 
to  two  things,  both  included  under  one  name,  Reflexion.  A  person  may  be 
given  to  Reflexion,  in  the  meaning  of  contemplation  or  meditation,  on  the 
matters  of  the  object  world.  According  to  this  meaning,  every  man  that 
thinks   seriously   on  anything   must   practise  Reflexion.     It  is  by  reflecting 


470  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

BUSINESS,  OR  PRACTICAL  LIFE. 

72.  In  the  higher  departments  of  industry,  or  business, — 
handicraft  labour  being  the  inferior  department, — the  forces 
of  the  intelHgence  have  a  wide  scope,  the  widest  next  to 
pure  science.  In  the  formahties  and  machinery  of  business, 
— book-keeping,  calculation,  money-reckoning,  banking,  con- 
tracts, deeds,  acts  of  Parliament,  etc., — we  have  a  number  of 
dry  artificial  elements,  not  unlike  the  machinery  of  the 
abstract  sciences,  but  touching  more  closely  and  frequently 
upon  things  of  universal  interest.  In  fact,  the  superior 
branches  of  industry — commerce,  manufactures,  govern- 
ment, etc. — seem  well  adapted  for  the  great  majority  of  the 
cleverest  minds.  The  pains  averted,  and  the  gratifications 
procured,  by  wealth,  are  so  various  and  powerful,  as  to 
stimulate  strongly  the  mass  of  human  beings  ;  while  only  a 
very  few  can  ever  be  possessed  with  the  love  of  truth  in  the 
abstract,  as  a  dominant  sentiment  of  the  mind. 

73.  The  management  of  human  beings,  which  is  a  large 
department  of  practical  life,  proceeds  partly  upon  certain 
active  qualities,  that  give  a  natural  influence  and  ascendancy 
over  others,  and  partly  upon  a  knowledge  of  the  ways  and 
tempers  of  men.  Without  such  knowledge  in  considerable 
measure,  the  master  of  workmen,  the  teacher,  the  legislator, 
and  many  other  professions  besides,  can  hardly  be  said  to 
be  skilled  in  their  craft.  It  requires  a  kind  of  observation 
rendered  difficult  by  the  very  causes  that  make  man  inter- 
esting to  man  ;  for,  those  passionate  feelings  that  arrest  our 
gaze  upon  our  fellows  sway  the-  mind  from  cool  judgments. 

beforehand  that  we  save  ourselves  the  trouble  of  actual  trials  in  many- 
instances.  The  unreflecting  and  active  temperament  would  prefer  the  trial. 
A  mathematician,  a  physiologist,  a  politician,  an  engineer,  a  general,  a  poet, 
must  reflect  a  great  deal  ;  having  a  certain  acquaintance  with  the  facts  of  the 
outer  world,  they  must  think  over  those  facts  in  combining  them  anew  for 
their  several  jjurposes. 

The  other  meaning  of  Reflexion  (the  meaning  in  Locke)  is  the  intro- 
spective, or  self-conscious  regards,  as  now  described.  Sir  W.  Hamilton 
would  call  it  the  Presentative  Faculty  for  the  knowledge  of  Self  (see  Note  G). 


HIGHER   DEPARTMENTS    OF   IXDUSTRY. — FINE    ARTS.    471 

It  is  not  SO  easy  to  read  accurately  a  man  or  a  woman  as  it 
is  to  read  a  mineral. 

A  person  engacred  in  any  work  should  naturally  be  alive 
to  the  end;  for  this  it  is  that  guides  his  hand:  the  builder 
sees  that  his  wall  is  rising  plumb  and  square.  But,  in  acting 
upon  men  in  the  various  capacities  of  teaching,  ruling, 
persuading,  pleasing,  ser\ang,  we  are  not  so  sensitive  to  the 
exact  result  of  our  attempts  as  in  dealing  with  the  material 
world,  nor  so  ready  to  adapt  our  movements  to  suit  the  end 
in  view. 

ACQUISITIONS  IX  THE   FINE  ARTS. 

74.  In  the  Fine  Arts,  there  are  produced  combinations,, 
aggregates,  groupings,  rhapsodic  successions, — such  as  to 
yield  the  species  of  effect  termed  beautiful,  sublime,  pic- 
turesque, harmonious,  etc.  ;  and  the  perception  of  those 
effects  is  Taste. 

The  artist  in  any  department  has  to  attain  the  power  of 
producing  these  combinations.  This  power  is,  at  the  first 
start,  a  result  of  creative  spontaneity,  guided  by  the  sense 
of  the  effect  produced ;  it  is  a  mode  of  the  natural  forth- 
putting  of  the  energies  of  the  voice,  or  the  hand,  as  in  the 
commencement  of  every  kind  of  active  faculty.  The  first 
musician  gave  scope  to  his  vocal  powers  at  random,  and 
gradually  corrected  the  action  according  to  his  ear.  When 
this  natural  outburst  took  some  definite  and  agreeable  shape, 
it  became  a  song,  a  melody,  caught  up  by  imitation  and 
handed  down  to  future  ages. 

A  large  part  of  every  artist's  power  necessarily  comes  by 
acquisition,  that  is,  by  the  operation  of  the  force  of  Contiguity. 
He  stores  up  the  combinations  produced  by  previous  artists, 
and  fixes  in  his  mind  those  that  he  produces  himself,  and 
gradually  rises  to  his  highest  efforts  of  execution.  In  this 
acquisitive  process,  the  conditions  appear  to  be  the  following, 
— of  which,  however,  the  enunciation  is  not  altogether  new 
to  the  reader. 

(1)  A  keen  sensibility  and  adhesiveness  for  the  element 
or  the  material  that  the  artist  works  in.     The  musician's  ear 


472  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF   CONTIGUITY. 

must  be  sensitive  to  sounds  and  successions  of  sound, — by 
which  circumstance  he  is  able  to  acquire  a  large  stock  of 
melodies.  The  sculptor  must  have  a  keen  sense  of  contour 
and  form  ;  the  painter,  of  form  and  colour  ;  the  actor,  of 
dramatic  movements ;  the  poet,  of  language  and  the  usual 
subjects  of  poetry. 

(2)  In  addition  to  this  sensitiveness  to  the  material  of  the 
art,  there  falls  to  be  noted  the  special  sensibility  to  the  proper 
effects  of  the  art ;  the  sense  of  melody  and  harmony  in  music, 
of  beautiful  curves  and  proportions  in  sculpture  and  architec- 
ture, of  these  last,  with  coloured  effects  in  painting,  and  so 
forth.  I  take  for  granted  that  beauty  is  not  arbitrary, — that 
there  are  effects  that  please  mankind  generally.  For  these 
the  artist  has  a  marked  preference,  and,  by  virtue  of  such  pre- 
ference, he  acquires  a  stronger  hold  of  what  causes  them, 
than  of  what  does  not.  The  poet  needs  a  large  disinterested 
adhesiveness  for  the  concretes  of  nature  and  the  incidents  of 
humanity ;  but  with  this  alone  he  would  be  indistinguishable 
from  a  born  naturalist  :  the  disinterested  adhesiveness  must 
be  qualified  by  a  special  fascination  for  things  that  have  a 
poet's  interest,  so  as  to  alter  the  proportions  of  his  impressi- 
bility, and  give  the  preponderance  to  one  special  class  of 
appearances.  Not  all  trees,  and  all  mountains,  and  all 
vegetation,  and  all  displays  of  human  feeling,  should  im- 
press alike  either  a  painter  or  a  poet. 

(3)  An  artist  is  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  a  mechanical 
workman,  and  improves  in  his  art  according  as  he  attains  to 
the  requisite  mechanical  operative  skill.  The  singer,  the 
orator,  the  actor,  must  cultivate  the  voice.  The  painter 
and  the  sculptor  are  persons  that  would  soon  learn  any 
handicraft  operation  of  the  artizan's  workshop.  The  poet, 
however,  like  the  abstract  thinker,  may  dispense  with  this 
muscular  element  of  character. 

HISTORY  AND  NARRATIVE. 
75.  The  successions  of  events  and  transactions  in  human 
life,  remembered  and  related,  make  History.     A  considerable 


MEMORY   FOR    HISTORICAL    TRANSACTIONS.  478 

portion  of  each  one's  stock  of  recollections  is  made  up  of 
such  materials. 

The  transactions  and  events  that  we  ourselves  have 
borne  a  part  in,  impress  themselves  on  the  mind  as  pictures 
of  living-  men  and  women,  their  various  manifestations,  and 
the  appearances  and  situations  of  things  about  them.  It  is 
thus  that  we  retain  the  impression  of  a  public  assembly,  a 
military  spectacle,  a  pageant,  a  play,  or  any  of  the  daily  on- 
goings of  private  society  or  of  ordinary  business.  The 
pictorial  mind  is  fully  alive  and  susceptible  to  such  things, 
and  is  tested  by  retaining  them.  The  retentiveness  is 
heightened  by  the  general  interest  in  human  beings,  and 
by  the  specific  or  personal  interest  that  belongs  to  the  trans- 
actions. The  soldierly  feeling  fixes  the  mind  upon  battles, 
reviews,  and  military  movements  ;  the  trader  is  arrested  by 
markets  and  commercial  enterprise ;  the  politician  wakens 
up  to  diplomatic  congresses  and  debates  ;  the  sporting  mind 
is  alive  on  the  race-course ;  the  family  interest  excites  the 
attention  upon  the  incidents  of  the  domestic  circle. 

A  single  transaction  deliberately  witnessed  is  often  able 
to  stamp  itself  in  the  memory  for  life.  There  seems  to  be, 
in  the  case  of  human  events,  an  exception  to  the  law  of 
Repetition,  or  to  the  usual  necessity  for  passing  a  thing 
before  the  mind  many  times  in  order  to  make  it  coherent. 
But  we  are  able  to  account  for  the  seeming  anomaly.  For, 
in  the  first  place,  such  transactions  are  usually  slow ;  that 
is,  they  keep  the  attention  awake  for  a  length  of  time  before 
they  are  completed  :  a  single  horse  race,  if  we  include  the 
preparations,  will  engage  the  mind  for  an  hour  together  ; 
while  some  transactions  occupy  days  and  months,  being  the 
subject  of  frequent  attention  all  through.  But,  what  is 
more,  many  past  events  are  frequently  brought  to  mind  ; 
and  every  such  occasion  is  a  mental  repetition.  After 
being  present  at  an  exciting  spectacle,  our  thoughts  keep 
themselves  engaged  upon  its  details ;  and,  in  the  retrospect, 
we  expand  our  attention  upon  things  that  were  but  hurriedly 
glanced  at  as  they  passed  before  the   actual  view.      Such 


474  RETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF   CONTIGUITY. 

rehearsal  in  the  mind,  after  the  reahty  has  passed,  is  a  great 
means  of  impressing  the  events  of  our  personal  experience. 
The  degree  of  emotional  interest  attaching  to  them  displays 
its  efficacy  in  bringing  about  their  more  or  less  frequent 
recall.  AVhat  is  indifferent  passes  away — it  is  rarely  dwelt 
upon  afterwards  ;  what  has  excited  us  at  the  time  excites 
us  in  the  remembrance,  and  secures  a  large  space  in  our 
ideal  meditations.  Provision  is  thus  made  for  consolidating 
in  the  memory  a  train  of  circumstances  that  do  not  admit 
of  being  repeated  in  the  actuality.  We  are  enabled  to 
recall,  in  after  years,  all  the  leading  transactions  that  are 
now  going  on  around  us  :  we  can  describe  the  incidents 
connected  with  our  family,  our  village,  our  city,  our  school, 
our  places  of  business,  recreation,  or  worship  ;  we  can  hve 
over  again,  in  minute  detail,  the  scenes  that  had  an  intense 
pleasurable  or  painful  interest  at  the  time. 

76.  The  transactions  that  we  know  by  hearsay,  or  the 
narrative  of  others,  impress  themselves  somewhat  differently. 
We  have  no  longer  the  actual  scenes  presented  to  our  vision  : 
they  are  represented  by  words,  and  the  recollection  is  modi- 
fied by  the  circumstances  affecting  verbal  adhesion.  If  we 
make  the  extreme  supposition,  that  the  hearer  of  a  narrative 
has  his  mind  carried  at  once  to  the  scenes  and  events  them- 
selves, and  is  able  to  realize  them  with  an  almost  living 
force,  the  case  is  not  different  from  the  foregoing  ;  the  words 
are  made  use  of  to  hoist  the  scenes,  and  then  drop  away. 
But  there  are  few  people  that  have  this  vivid  power  of 
conceiving  the  realities  of  narrated  transactions.  In  general, 
the  verbal  succession  of  the  narrative  is  itself  the  medium 
of  holding  together  the  events  contained  in  it,  and  the 
recollection  is  a  mixture  of  adhesions,  pictorial  and  verbal. 

Written  history  may,  therefore,  be  retained  by  a  good 
verbal  memory.  When  the  thread  of  pictured  events  has 
snapped,  the  thread  of  verbal  succession  in  the  printed  page 
may  suffice  ;  the  power  of  recollection  on  the  whole  is  ir- 
regularly divided  between  the  two. 


EECOLLECTION    OF    OVR   OW^'    DOINGS.  475 

OUR  PAST  LIFE. 

77.  The  train  of  our  Past  Existence,  as  a  whole,  is  made 
coherent  in  the  mind  through  contiguity,  and  can  be  recalled 
with  more  or  less  minuteness  according  to  the  strength  of 
the  adhesion.  In  any  subject  that  is  complicated  with 
details,  only  a  few  prominent  features  usually  cohere — as, 
for  example,  the  striking  parts  of  a  landscape,  or  incidents 
of  a  history ;  and  such  is  the  case  with  the  great  complex 
currents  of  each  one's  individual  existence. 

This  current  is  made  up  of  the  elements  contained  under 
the  foregoing  heads  of  this  chapter.  It  embraces  all  our 
actions,  all  our  sensations,  emotions,  volitions,  in  the  order 
of  their  occurrence.  It  is  the  track  described  by  each  indi- 
'^adual  through  the  world  during  his  sojourn  therein ;  it 
comprises  all  that  he  has  done  and  all  that  he  has  been 
impressed  with. 

Under  the  previous  head,  I  have  spoken  of  the  stream  of 
history,  or  the  current  of  events  passing  before  the  eyes  of 
a  spectator  supposed  to  be  passive.  But  spectatorship  of 
what  is  going  on  about  us,  does  not  express  the  whole 
current  of  our  remembered  existence  ;  there  is  wanting  the 
series  of  our  own  doings  and  transactions.  When  what  we 
have  done  is  added  to  what  we  have  seen  and  felt,  the  history 
of  self  is  complete. 

The  distinguishing  feature  of  the  present  case,  therefore, 
is  the  remembrance  of  our  own  actions  according  as  they 
happened.  What  is  the  nature  of  the  bond  that  cements 
things  done  by  us,  and  not  simply  witnessed  ? 

78.  In  the  first  place,  many  of  our  movements  consist  in 
changing  the  spectacle  about  us,  or  in  producing  a  series  of 
appearances  to  the  eye,  or  of  effects  on  the  senses  in  general. 
Thus,  when  we  walk  out,  we  bring  before  our  eyes  a  stream 
of  houses,  shops,  streets,  fields  ;  and  the  impression  of  the 
walk, — the  coherent  trace  that  it  leaves  in  the  brain,  is,  in 
part  at  least,  pictorial,  just  as  if  we  stood  still  and  saw  the 
scenes  shifted  in  the  same  order.     So,  our  work  often  con- 


476  RETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

sists  in  producing  changes,  seen  and  remembered,  as  sensible 
appearances.  The  ploughman's  active  day  is  partly  summed 
up  in  the  furrowed  field  that  is  pictured  in  his  mind  in  the 
evening  retrospect.  Hence  remembered  actions  may  be  to 
a  great  extent  remembered  appearances.  So  far,  the  case 
now  in  hand  is  in  no  way  different  from  the  preceding. 

It  is  evident,  however,  that  there  must  be  a  remembrance 
of  actions  by  themselves,  as  well  as  of  the  changes  that  they 
bring  before  the  view.  We  do,  in  fact,  have  a  recollection  of 
our  own  active  states  as  such  ;  we  can  describe  the  move- 
ments made  by  us,  the  feelings  of  pleasant  exercise,  laborious 
exertion,  or  reposing  fatigue,  that  we  have  successively  gone 
through  in  a  given  day,  week,  or  month. 

This  takes  us  back  to  what  was  laid  down,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  present  chapter,  on  the  Ideas  of  movement 
and  action.  I  endeavoured  to  show  that  these  are  formed  by 
re-actuating  the  circles  of  movement,  but  so  as  to  come  short 
of  the  full  stimulus  required  by  the  action  itself :  the  re- 
membrance of  striking  a  blow  is  in  reality  all  but  to  repeat 
the  act ;  the  restraining  of  the  full  display  being  sometimes  a 
considerable  effort.  Now,  successive  actions  cohere  both  as 
actions  and  as  ideas  ;  we  may  either  perform  an  action  out- 
right, or  stop  short  at  the  mere  idea  or  vestige  of  the  action. 
Much  of  our  life  is  spent  in  going  over  remembered  and  ideal 
actions  ;  and,  when  we  recover  a  work  done  by  us,  merely  as 
a  matter  of  history,  and  not  for  the  purpose  of  doing  the  work 
again,  the  vestige,  or  idea,  of  the  different  steps  is  what  passes 
along  the  mental  tracks.  These  vestiges  of  movement  exe- 
cuted are  as  really  and  truly  mental  possessions,  or  ideas,  as 
the  remembered  pictures  of  the  external  world  through  the 
eye.  We  can  revive  one  or  other  in  the  ideal  form  ;  and,  in- 
asmuch as  our  sensations  are  all  unavoidably  mixed  up  with 
movements,  our  recollections  are  usually  a  mixture  of  the  two. 

Now,  in  recalling  a  series  of  movements — as,  for  instance, 
a  dance — simply  for  our  own  gratification,  because  of  the 
agreeable  feelings  that  they  gave  in  the  reality,  we  do  nothing 
but  revive  those  vestiges  or  diminished  currents  that  suffice 


MENTAL   EMBODIMENT    OF   EEMEMBEEED   ACTIVITY.     477 

for  the  purpose  of  a  recollection.  This  is  to  live  our  history 
over  again  in  idea.  And,  when  we  have  acquired  the  power 
of  naming  all  the  various  movements  in  succession,  the 
ideas,  as  they  successively  repossess  the  various  organs, 
suggest  the  names  of  the  different  steps,  and  we  can  then 
narrate  the  whole  in  language.  It  is  this  power  of  narrating 
that  we  usually  term  the  recollection  of  an  event,  and  that 
constitutes  history.  With  the  power  of  language  that 
belongs  to  human  beings,  it  happens  that  our  recollections 
of  what  we  have  gone  through,  do  not  occur  as  pure  ideas  of 
the  actions  and  scenes  themselves,  but  as  ideas  mixed  up 
with  verbal  descriptions ;  which  last  are  constantly  disposed 
to  intrude  themselves  into  our  recollections,  even  when  these 
are  not  communicated  to  any  one. 

The  firm  adhesion  of  the  ideas  or  vestiges  of  our  active 
movements  is  acaseof  muscular  contiguity,  like  the  adhesion 
of  the  actions  themselves  in  acquiring  mechanical  habits.  I 
cannot  find  any  other  law  for  the  association  of  ideas  of 
movements  than  for  actual  movements.  I  have  already 
endeavoured  to  discuss  the  circumstances  favourable  to  the 
adhesion  of  muscular  trains,  and  these  would,  I  conceive, 
hold  in  the  present  case  also.  People  that  have  a  facility  in 
acquiring  mechanical  habits,  would,  in  general,  have  an  equal 
facility  in  remembering  the  steps  of  any  performance  that 
they  had  gone  through.  The  greater  instance  imphes  the 
less ;  the  adhesion  of  the  movements  in  full  involves  the 
adhesion  of  the  currents  that  stop  short  of  movement. 

The  case  is  altered,  as  already  remarked,  by  the  intrusion 
of  language  or  expression  :  in  so  far  as  we  rely  upon  this, 
our  remembrance  will  be  easy  or  difdcult  according  as  our 
adhesiveness  for  language  is  strong  or  feeble.  This  is  not 
the  only  instance  of  impressions  retained  by  the  help  of 
some  foreign  machinery  more  adhesive  than  themselves. 
We  have  seen  the  same  thing  in  the  retention  of  the  sensa- 
tions of  the  inferior  senses. 

79.  Our  past  life  may,  therefore,  be  conceived  as  a  vast 
stream  of  spectacle,  action,  feeling,  voHtion,  desire, — inter- 


478  EETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF   CONTIGUITY. 

mingled  and  complicated  in  every  way,  and  rendered  adherent 
by  its  unbroken  continuity.  It  is  impossible,  however,  to 
associate  equally  all  the  details,  so  as  to  recover  them  at 
pleasure ;  only  the  more  impressive  facts  remain  strung 
together  in  recollection.  The  larger  epochs  and  the  stirring 
incidents  readily  come  to  our  recollection,  when  we  go  back 
to  some  early  starting-point  ;  while  the  minor  events  fail  to 
appear  on  the  simple  thread  of  sequence  in  time,  and  are 
recalled  only  by  the  presence  of  other  circumstances  that 
serve  to  link  them  with  the  present.  It  is  our  custom,  in 
recalling  the  past,  to  string  together  events  in  new  con- 
nexions, as  when  any  one  recites  the  history  of  their  early 
education,  selecting  out  of  the  miscellaneous  stream  the  inci- 
dents relating  to  that  one  point.  Our  individual  history 
becomes  thus  broken  up  into  sections  and  partial  narratives  ; 
and,  to  recover  the  total  current,  we  should  find  it  requisite 
to  collect  these  into  one  great  sequence,  upon  the  thread  of 
strict  succession  in  order  of  time. 

80.  I  have  thus  presented  a  series  of  examples  of  the 
working  of  the  Retentive,  or  adhesive,  property  of  the  Intel- 
lect. As  the  subject  proceeds,  there  will  be  other  oppor- 
tunities of  adding  to  the  illustration.  The  special  branch  of 
Moral  acquisitions,  or  Habits,  wdll  best  find  a  place  in 
treating  of  Volition.  There  now  only  remain  some 
general  observations  on  the  nature  of  this  great  adhesive 
force. 

First.  Throughout,  we  have  assumed  superiority  in  ac- 
quisition to  depend  partly  on  general  conditions— Repetition, 
Concentration,  and  the  Adhesiveness  of  the  mind  as  a  whole  ; 
and  partly  on  special  or  local  endowments.  The  only  doubt- 
ful point  is  the  relative  shares  of  the  general  adhesiveness, 
and  of  the  local  endowments  of  the  senses  and  moving 
organs.  There  is,  certainly,  a  presumption  in  favour  of  a 
contrast,  from  the  essential  difference  between  sense  and  in- 
tellect, notwithstanding  their  intimate  connexion  and  depend- 
ence.    Anatomically,  the  two  are  thought  to  be  separately 


QUESTION    AS    TO    POWER    OF    GENERAL   ADHESIVENESS.    479 

embodied ;  the  senses  being  more  related  to  the  gangha  of 
the  brain,  the  intellect  to  the  convoluted  hemispheres. 

Besides,  there  are  individuals  distinguished  as  learners 
generally  :  they  may  not  succeed  in  all  subjects  alike,  but 
they  have  an  aptitude  for  acquirement  so  extensive  as  not  to 
be  properly  referable  to  endowments  of  the  special  senses. 
When  we  find  a  man  almost  equally  accomplished  in  mecha- 
nical art,  fine  art,  language,  science,  business,  we  regard  the 
case  as  coming  under  general  retentiveness,  and  not  under 
an  aggregate  of  high  sense-endowments.  Lastly,  many  of 
the  lower  animals,  as  the  dog,  have  sense-endowments  of  the 
first  order.  If  we  judge  these  by  the  proper  test  of  a  sense — 
delicate  discrimination, — they  will  bear  comparison  with 
human  beings,  even  in  Sight  and  in  Hearing,  not  to  mention 
their  superiority  in  Smell.  That  their  powers  of  memory  in 
some  degree  correspond,  we  may  presume,  although  we 
may  not  bring  it  to  an  actual  test.  Ferrier  playfully  re- 
marked of  the  dog  that,  if  two  met  together  in  the  evening 
to  compare  notes,  they  would  put  it  one  to  the  other  in  the 
form, —  What  have  we  smelt  to-day? 

In  the  second  place,  I  may  advert  to  the  known  superi- 
ority of  early  years  as  regards  this  force  or  plasticity.  It  is 
not  easy  to  state  with  any  precision  the  comparative  in- 
tensity of  the  adhesive  growth  at  different  ages,  but  there 
can  be  no  doubt  of  the  fact  of  its  gradually  diminishing  from 
childhood  to  old  age.  Bodily  acquisitions  are  easiest  while 
the  organs  are  still  flexible,  apart  from  the  plastic  adhesive- 
ness of  the  brain  ;  hence,  a  maximum  age  is  fixed  for  admit- 
ting recruits  into  the  military  service.  At  the  present  time, 
I  believe  the  age  of  twenty-three  is  the  extreme  term  of 
admission.  Uj)  to  this  age,  any  bodily  habit  is  easily  as- 
sumed ;  the  moral  discipline  of  obedience  is  also  compara- 
tively easy.  But,  for  both  the  one  and  the  other,  the  earliest 
years  are  the  best.  We  must  always  take  account  of  the 
obstruction  arising  from  adverse  bents  and  acquisitions. 
In  matters  where  the  bodily  and  mental  system  are  not  pre- 
occupied, the  age  of  twenty-five  is  a  very  plastic  age, — as,  for 


480  RETENTIVENESS — LAW    OP    CONTIGUITY. 

example,  in  learning  business-forms,  languages,  or  science. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  voluntary  command  of  the  attention 
is  greatest  in  more  mature  life. 

Special  Circumstances  Governing  Recuperation. — The  force 
of  retentiveness,  as  above  stated  and  conditioned,  has  its  final 
test  and  perfect  fruit  in  due  recovery  under  the  proper  cir- 
cumstances. In  other  words,  when  the  first  member  of  an 
associating  couple  is  presented  to  consciousness,  the  second 
appears  as  a  matter  of  course.  If  such  were  not  the  case, 
we  should  have  to  pronounce  that  the  link  of  association 
had  been  insufficiently  forged ;  that  some  of  the  requisite 
conditions  had  been  wanting. 

All  this,  however,  proceeds  upon  the  assumption  that 
the  bodily  and  mental  framework  at  the  moment  of  the 
associating  recall  is  in  a  fairly  average  normal  condition. 

1.  Physical  conditions.  It  may  be  fairly  assumed  that 
the  bodily  state  already  described  as  favouring  the  first 
reception  and  steady  growth  of  associated  products,  is  also 
the  state  favourable  for  reproduction  when  required.  In 
the  first  learning  of  a  lesson,  it  is  proper  and  suitable  that 
the  organs  should  be  vigorous  and  the  attention  fully  en- 
gaged. It  is  equally  fitting  that,  when  the  time  comes  for 
repeating  the  same  lesson,  the  learner  should  be  as  nearly 
as  possible  in  the  like  condition.  A  task  that  can  be  perfectly 
well  performed  in  ordinary  circumstances,  as  respects  physi- 
cal soundness  and  available  attention,  may  utterly  miscarry 
under  an  altered  state  of  things.  It  is  notorious  that 
morning  freshness  enables  a  learner  to  execute  a  stroke 
of  memory  or  reproduction  that  is  found  impracticable  at 
the  end  of  the  day.  So,  in  a  condition  of  unusual  bodily 
exhaustion,  memory  refuses  to  respond  even  in  some  of 
our  most  secure  acquisitions. 

Practically,  this  circumstance  is  equally  important  at  the 
moment  of  learning  and  at  the  moment  of  reproducing  or 
remembering.  It  does  not  follow  that  we  should  adopt  Hamil- 
ton's Beprod active  faculty  as  something  distinct  from  a  Gonserva- 


CIRCUMSTANCES    CONNECTED   WITH   RESUSCITATION.     481 

tive  faculty.  The  storing  of  the  mind  is  one  undivided  fact, 
although  involving  a  variety  of  conditions.  It  is  not  enough  to 
look  to  the  circumstances  attending  the  first  impressing  of  an 
idea.  We  need  also  to  take  an  account  of  the  circumstances 
attending  its  resuscitation.  Still,  these  last  circumstances  do  not 
involve  the  assumption  of  a  distinct  faculty. 

The  extreme  illustration  of  the  importance  of  the  actual 
condition  of  the  bodily  system  at  the  moment  of  revival  is 
to  be  found  in  the  recorded  instances  of  extraordinary  force 
of  memory  under  febrile  excitement.  It  is  not  uncommon 
for  patients  in  such  a  state  to  remember  trains  that  formerly 
passed  through  the  mind,  but  were  never  sufficiently  en- 
grained to  reappear  under  an  average  condition  of  the  nerves. 

2.  Antecedent  situation  fully  given.  The  recovery  of  a 
train  by  association  assumes  that  the  full  and  complete 
antecedent  shall  be  supplied.  The  meaning  of  this  is,  that 
the  first  member  of  a  couple  or  a  series  may  not  be  suffi- 
ciently expressed  by  assigning  the  more  obvious  or  prominent 
item. 

For  one  thing,  it  is  well  known  that  the  same  object  of 
thought — a  sound,  a  name,  a  visible  thing — becomes  the 
starting-point  of  many  different  trains.  A  musical  note 
struck  does  not  resuscitate  in  the  mind  of  a  musician  any 
one  air ;  it  being  common  to  a  great  many.  It  must  be 
followed  by  a  second  and  a  third  and  a  fourth,  until  the 
concurrence  points  to  one  definite  air  and  no  other.  So 
with  language.  The  first  word  of  a  known  passage  suggests 
nothing.  The  word  '  the  '  commences  so  very  many  com- 
positions that  it  recalls  none.  Add  a  second  word  and  the 
number  of  outlets  undergo  a  certain  amount  of  limitation, 
although  as  yet  perhaps  not  reducing  the  number  to  one 
alone.  In  all  cases,  therefore,  of  recovery  by  association, 
the  first  requisite  is  to  complete  the  group  of  elements  that 
hems  in  the  associative  succession  to  one  channel.  When 
this  is  not  done,  either  there  is  no  associative  reproduc- 
tion or  there  is  more  than  one,  or  some  casual  addition  at 

the  moment  determines  the  cause  of  the  resuscitation. 

31 


482  RETENTIVENESS — LAW   OF    CONTIGUITY. 

3.  Readiness  of  suggested  circumstance  to  arise.  Ir- 
respective of  the  strength  of  the  associating  link,  and  the 
completeness  of  the  prior  situation,  is  the  readiness  of  the 
suggested  circumstance  to  appear  owing  to  something  in  its 
own  nature,  whether  permanent  or  temporary.  The  most 
striking  instance  of  this,  perhaps,  is  the  case  of  an  idea 
suggesting  a  name  or  verbal  delineation.  When  the  verbal 
element  happens  to  be  strong,  whether  as  a  feature  of  the 
character,  or  as  being  fresh  at  the  moment,  the  utterance  of 
the  name  or  verbal  description  is  stimulated  in  an  unusual 
degree.  Moreover,  when  the  act  of  utterance  is  foreseen  to 
be  gratifying,  it  is  prompted  by  that  consideration.  The 
fact  will  afterwards  be  noted  that,  in  the  springing  up  of 
thoughts,  there  is  a  moment  preceding  the  full  conscious 
recovery,  when  the  tone  or  character  is  so  far  anticipated  as 
to  encourage,  or  else  discourage  the  perfect  resuscitation. 

4.  Plural  associations.  It  often  happens  that  an  as- 
sociative link  is  not  sufficiently  strong  to  operate  in  ordinary 
circumstances, — there  being  a  great  many  such  insufficient 
bonds  in  our  educational  history, — while  by  the  concurrence 
of  some  second  associate,  also  perhaps  insufficient  in  itself, 
the  recovery  may  take  place.  This  is  a  fact  of  sufficient  im- 
portance to  receive  a  full  exposition  at  a  subsequent  stage 
(see  Compound  Association). 

5.  Eecency.  The  element  of  recency  is  well  known  to 
count  largely  in  the  facility  of  recuperation.  This  however 
is  a  wide  ranging  topic.  It  is  incorporated  with  the  essen- 
tial condition  of  consciousness — its  limitation  at  any  one 
instant — and  the  mode  of  overcoming  this  limitation  so  as  to 
perform  the  more  complicated  operations  of  thought.  Also, 
m  deciding  the  question  as  to  the  period  when  an  acquisition 
may  be  regarded  as  settled  and  permanent,  as  beyond  the 
power  of  decay,  we  must  take  note  of  the  continuance  and 
repetition  of  the  supposed  exercise,  and  the  circumstances 
that  accompany  this  repetition  with  a  view  to  the  result  (see 
note  C). 

Gradation  of  adhesive  intensity. — The  rate  or  pace  of  re- 


FAILUEE    OF   MEMOEY.  488 

covery  of  foregone  trains  by  association  is  known  to  be  ex- 
tremely unequal,  even  when  sufficient  for  the  purpose.  The 
effect  of  very  great  iteration  is,  we  are  aware,  to  quicken 
the  pace  of  recovery,  while  reducing  the  strain  of  conscious- 
ness accompanying  the  act.  A  familiar  example  is  the 
difference  between  speaking  our  own  language  and  speaking 
a  foreign  language  that  we  may  have  sufficiently  learned  for 
all  practical  purposes.  It  is  a  further  consequence  of  ex- 
treme iteration  that  recovery  takes  place  in  circumstances 
of  depression  and  failure  of  the  bodily  and  mental  powers. 

Likewise,  the  release  of  conscious  attention  in  such 
higher  forms  of  habituation  permits  the  occupation  of  the 
mind  with  some  other  train  of  actions  or  thoughts.  We 
have  thus,  in  connexion  with  the  higher  degrees  of  associat- 
ing iteration,  a  whole  group  of  consequences  that  can  be 
taken  as  the  measure  of  the  associating  efficacy,  and  in- 
directlj'  of  one  another. 

Failure  of  Memor I/. — Our  acquisitions  are  liable  to  decay 
from  various  causes  ;  the  principal  being,  of  course,  insuf- 
ficiency of  the  original  impression.  The  others  are  the 
absence  of  occasions  of  recurrence  or  rehearsal,  and  also 
supplanting  associations  in  the  same  field  ;  as  when  a 
language  is  steadily  disused,  and  another,  not  far  removed 
in  kind,  gets  the  benefit  of  constant  practice. 

All  this  may  occur  without  prejudice  to  plasticity  in 
general,  or  the  power  of  making  new  acquisitions  at  an  un- 
diminished rate ;  a  power  that  may  go  on  into  middle  life 
under  favourable  circumstances,  while  decaying  inevitably, 
if  slowly,  as  middle  life  is  passed. 

There  is  a  double  manifestation  of  the  power,  constituting 
a  twofold  test  or  aspect  of  it.  The  one  form  is  shown  in 
the  endeavour  to  make  fresh  and  lasting  acquirements, — as  a 
new  manipulation  in  the  arts,  a  new  language,  a  new  science, 
or  a  new  storage  of  the  historical  memory.  The  other  form 
is  more  readily  accessible  to  experimental  comparison.  It 
is  to  advert  to  the  ready  recovery  of  what  has  just  been 
recently  in  consciousness — those  temporary  impressions  that 


484  EETENTIVENESS — LAW    OF    CONTIGUITY. 

serve  for  passing  uses  and  employments  and  are  no  further 
sought  to  be  retained.  The  point  is,  whether  the  failure  of 
this  mode  of  memory  is  a  fair  criterion  of  the  rate  of  failure 
of  the  larger  and  more  comprehensive  sweep  as  above 
described.  Presumably  it  is  so,  although  no  regular  investi- 
gation has  as  yet  put  it  to  an  adequate  test. 

The  illustration  in  this  chapter  has  had  mainly  in  view 
our  enduring  acquisitions.  We  have  generally  understood 
the  retainability  of  an  impression  to  mean  the  power  of 
recalling  it  at  any  future  time,  however  remote.  Yet,  it  is 
necessary  to  take  account  of  the  tendency  of  all  acquisitions 
to  decay  by  time ;  the  rate  of  decay  being  dependent  on 
various  circumstances,  including  the  failing  of  the  brain  itself. 
It  is  observed  that  the  impressions  that  survive,  in  extreme 
old  age,  are  those  of  early  years. 

To  keep  our  acquisitions  from  decaying,  it  is  requisite 
that  they  should  be  occasionally  revived.  A  language  ac- 
quired in  early  years  may  be  utterly  lost  by  disuse  ;  whereas, 
if  kept  up  till  mature  age,  it  will  be  fixed  for  life.  Sustained 
practice  seems  particularly  necessary  in  early  education : 
children's  acquisitions  are  very  liable  to  decompose,  if  not 
kept  up  and  confirmed  by  new  additions.  No  precise  laws 
have  ever  been  ascertained  in  this  department  of  the  human 
mind. 

The  sj^stem  of  cramming  is  a  scheme  for  making  tem- 
porary acquisitions,  regardless  of  the  endurance  of  them. 
Excitable  brains,  able  to  command  a  very  great  concentra- 
tion of  force  upon  a  subject,  will  be  proportionably  impressed 
for  the  time  being.  By  drawing  upon  the  strength  of  the 
future,  we  are  able  to  fix  temporarily  a  great  variety  of  im- 
pressions, during  the  exaltation  of  cerebral  power  that  the 
excitement  gives.  The  occasion  past,  the  brain  must  lie  idle 
for  a  corresponding  length  of  time,  while  a  portion  of  the 
excited  impressions  will  gradually  die  away.  This  system 
is  unfavourable  to  permanent  acquisitions ;  for  these,  the 
force  of  the  brain  should  be  carefully  husbanded  and  tempe- 
rately drawn  upon.     Every  period  of  undue  excitement  and 


ECONOMY   OF   THE    RETENTIVE    POWER.  485 

feverish    susceptibility  is  fraught    with    great  waste   of  the 
plastic  energy  of  the  mind  on  the  whole. 

Is  consciousness  essential  to  plasticity'} — It  is  generally  as- 
sumed that  nothing  can  be  laid  up  in  the  memory  that  has 
not  first  occupied  the  consciousness.  Indeed,  a  certain  con- 
scious intensity  is  regarded  as  the  essential  circumstance 
of  any  acquisitive  growth.  This  position  would  never  have 
been  challenged  but  for  the  fact  that  sleep  and  repose  some- 
times enable  us  to  achieve  a  stroke  of  intellectual  efficiency 
(such  as  remembering  a  lesson) ;  there  being  a  total  intermis- 
sion of  consciousness  meanwhile.  The  most  probable 
solution  of  this  enigma  would  seem  to  be,  that  all  mental 
efficiency  presupposes  a  certain  tone  or  vigour  of  the 
organs  at  the  moment  of  execution,  and  that  a  proper 
amount  of  repose  may  be  the  means  of  imparting  the  re- 
quired  condition. 

Economy  of  the  plastic  power. — This  may  be  said  to  express 
the  practical  conclusion  of  the  entire  treatment  of  the  law  of 
contiguity.  It  is  likewise  aimed  at  in  the  various  experi- 
ments made  by  different  observers,  as  to  the  best  modes  of 
regulating  the  direction  and  stress  of  attention  and  the 
number  and  timing  of  repetitions.  All  this  is  pre-eminently 
susceptible  of  experimental  handling  ;  and  is  likely  to  be 
more  and  more  attended  to  in  the  progress  of  psychological 
study  as  well  as  educational  investigation.  Hitherto,  the 
experience  of  the  schoolmaster  has  been  the  most  prolific  of 
valuable  suggestions.  To  this  are  now  added  the  researches 
of  the  various  inquirers  that  have  devoted  themselves  to 
psycho-physical  observations. 

Both  in  reference  to  intellectual  acquirements,  and  in  the 
still  more  arduous  discipline  of  the  Feelings  and  the  Will, 
important  points  of  economy  have  been  already  determined, 
and  have  so  far  justified  the  time  and  labour  hitherto  be- 
stowed upon  the  investigation  of  the  mind. 


CHAPTEK   II. 

AGREEMENT— LAW  OF  SIMILARITY. 

Present  Actions,  Sensations,  Thoughts,  or  Emotions 
tend  to  revive  their  Like  among  previous  Impres- 
sions, or  States. 

1 .  /CONTIGUITY  joins  together  things  that  occur  together, 
VJ  or  that  are,  by  any  circumstance,  presented  to  the 
mind  at  the  same  time;  as  when  we  associate  heat  with  hght, 
or  a  faUing  body  with  a  concussion.  But,  in  addition  to  this 
hnk  of  reproductive  connexion,  we  find  that  one  thing  will, 
by  virtue  of  similarity,  recall  another  separated  from  it  in  time, — 
as  when  a  portrait  recalls  the  original. 

The  second  fundamental  property  of  Intellect,  termed 
Consciousness  of  Agreement,  or  Similarity,  is  a  great  power 
of  mental  reproduction,  or  a  means  of  recovering  past  mental 
states.  It  was  noticed  by  Aristotle  as  one  of  the  links  in 
the  succession  of  our  thoughts. 

As  regards  our  knoivledge,  or  perception,  of  things,  the  con- 
sciousness of  Agreement  is  second  only  to  Discrimination,  or  the 
consciousness  of  Difference.  When  we  know  a  thing,  we  do  so 
by  its  differences  and  its  agreements.  Our  full  knowledge  of  red, 
is  our  having  contrasted  it  with  all  other  colours,  and  our  having 
compared  it  with  itself  and  with  its  various  shades.  Our  know- 
ledge of  a  chair  is  made  up  of  our  experiences  of  the  distinction 
between  it  and  other  articles  of  furniture,  etc.,  and  of  the  agree- 
ment between  it  and  other  chairs.  Both  modes  are  involved  in  a 
complete  act  of  cognition,  and  nothing  else  (except,  of  course,  the 
Retentiveness  impued  in  the  one  and  the  other)  is  necessary.  Our 
knowledge  of  man  is  the  sum  of  the  points  of  contrast  between 
a  man  and  all  other  things,  and  the  sum  of  the  points  of  identity 


CONTIGUITY   AND    SIMILARITY   MUTUALLY   INVOLVED.     487 

on  comparing  men  witli  one  another.  Our  increase  in  knowledge 
is  constantly  proceeding  in  both  directions :  we  note  new  differ- 
ences, and  also  new  agreements,  among  om-  experiences,  object 
and  subject.  We  do  not  begin  to  be  conscious  till  we  have  the 
shock  of  difference ;  and  we  cannot  make  that  analysis  of  our 
conscious  states,  called  the  recognition  of  plurality,  combination, 
or  complication,  till  we  discover  agreements,  and  refer  each  part 
of  the  impression  to  its  like  among  our  previous  impressions.  To 
perceive  is,  properly,  to  recognize,  or  identify. 

2.  Some  preliminary  explanation  of  tiie  kind  of  relation- 
ship subsisting  between  the  two  principles  of  Contiguity  and 
Similarity,  is  requisite  in  order  to  guard  against  mistakes, 
and,  especially,  to  prevent  misapprehension  as  to  the  separate 
existence  of  the  two  modes  of  action  in  the  mental  frame- 
work. When  the  cohesive  link  between  any  two  contiguous 
actions  or  images  is  confirmed  by  a  new  occurrence  or  repe- 
tition, obviously  the  present  impression  must  revive  the  sum 
total  of  the  past  impressions,  or  reinstate  the  whole  mental 
condition  left  on  the  occasion  immediately  preceding.  Thus, 
if  I  am  disciplining  myself  in  the  act  of  drawing  a  round 
figure  with  my  hand,  any  one  present  effort  must  recall  the 
state  of  the  muscular  and  nervous  action,  or  the  precise 
bent  acquired  at  the  end  of  the  previous  effort ;  while  that 
effort  had  to  reinstate  the  condition  at  the  end  of  the  one 
preceding,  and  so  on.  It  is  only  in  this  way  that  repetition 
can  be  of  any  avail  in  confirming  a  physical  habit,  or  in 
forming  an  intellectual  aggregate.  But  this  reinstatement 
of  a  former  condition  by  a  present  act  of  the  same  kind,  is 
really  and  truly  a  case  of  the  operation  of  the  reproductive 
principle  of  similarity,  or  of  like  recalling  like  ;  and  we  here 
plainly  see,  that,  without  such  recall,  the  adhesion  of  con- 
tiguous things  would  be  impossible.  Hence,  it  would  appear 
that,  all  through  the  exposition  of  Contiguity,  the  principle 
of  Similarity  has  been  tacitly  assumed  :  we  have  everywhere 
taken  for  granted,  that  a  present  occurrence  of  any  object  to 
the  view,  recalls  the  total  impression  made  by  all  the  previous 
occurrences,  and  adds  its  own  effect  to  that  total. 


488  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

But,  by  thus  tacitly  assuming  the  power  of  anything 
present  to  reinstate  the  past  impressions  of  the  same  thing, 
we  restrict  ourselves  to  those  cases  where  the  reinstatement 
is  sure  and  certain, — in  fact,  to  cases  of  literal  identity  of  the 
present  and  past.  Such  is  the  nature  of  the  instances  dwelt 
upon  in  the  previous  chapter  :  in  all  of  them,  the  new  move- 
ment, or  the  new  image,  was  supposed  precisely  identical 
with  the  old,  and  went  simply  to  reinstate  and  to  deepen 
an  impression  already  made.  We  must,  however,  now  pass 
beyond  this  field  of  examples,  and  enter  upon  a  new  class 
where  the  identity  is  only  partial,  and  is,  on  that  account, 
liable  to  be  missed — where  the  restoration,  instead  of  being 
sure,  is  doubtful ;  and  where,  moreover,  the  reinstatement 
serves  higher  purposes  than  the  mere  iteration  and  deepening 
of  the  impression  already  made.  In  all  mental  restorations 
whatsoever,  both  Contiguity  and  Similarity  are  at  work :  in 
one  class,  the  question  is  as  to  the  sufficiency  of  the  con- 
tiguous bond,  the  similarity  being  sure ;  in  another  class,  the 
question  is  as  to  the  sufficiency  of  the  attractive  force  of  the 
likeness,  the  contiguous  adhesiveness  being  believed  certain. 
If  I  chance  to  meet  with  a  person  I  have  formerly  seen,  and 
endeavour  to  remember  his  name,  it  will  depend  upon  the 
goodness  of  a  cohesive  link  whether  or  not  I  succeed — there 
will  be  no  difficulty  in  my  recalling  the  past  impression  of 
his  personal  appearance  through  the  force  of  the  present 
impression ;  but,  having  recalled  the  full  total  of  the  past 
impressions,  I  may  not  be  able  to  recover  the  accompaniment 
of  the  name — the  contiguity  may  be  at  fault,  although  the 
similarity  works  its  perfect  work  of  restoring  to  me  my 
previous  conception  of  the  personal  aspect.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  see  a  man  on  the  street,  and  if  I  have  formerly  seen 
a  portrait  of  that  man,  it  is  a  question  whether  the  living 
reality  shall  recall  the  portrait :  the  doubt  hangs  not  upon 
the  contiguity,  or  coherence  of  the  parts  and  surroundings 
of  the  picture,  if  it  could  be  recovered,  but  upon  the  chance 
of  its  being  recovered.  Where  things  are  identical,  the 
operation  of  similarity,  in  making  the  present  case  revive  the 


IMPERFECT    IDENTITY   THE    CHIEF    OBSTRUCTIVE.       489 

former  ones,  is  so  certain  that  it  is  not  even  mentioned  ;  we 
talk  of  the  goodness  of  the  cohesive  bond  between  the 
revived  part  and  its  accompaniments,  as  if  contiguity  ex- 
pressed the  whole  fact  of  the  restoration.  To  make  up  for 
this  partiality  of  view,  which  was  indispensable  to  a  clear 
exposition,  we  now  embrace,  with  the  like  partial  and  pro- 
minent consideration,  the  element  that  was  left  in  a  latent 
condition ;  and  allow  to  sink,  into  the  latent  state,  the  one 
that  has  hitherto  been  made  exclusively  prominent.* 

3.  In  the  perfect  identity  between  a  present  and  a  past 
impression,  the  past  is  recovered  and  fused  with  the  present, 
instantaneously  and  surely.  So  quick  and  unfaltering  is  the 
process  that  we  lose  sight  of  it  altogether  ;  we  are  scarcely 
made  aware  of  the  existence  of  a  reproductive  link  of  simi- 
larity in  the  chain  of  sequence.  Wlien  I  look  at  the  full 
moon,  I  am  instantly  impressed  with  the  state  arising  from 
all  my  former  impressions  of  her  disc  added  together.  So 
natural  and  necessary  does  this  restoration  seem,  that  we 
rarely  reflect  on  the  principle  implied  in  it, — namelj^  the 
power  of  the  new  stimulus  to  set  on  the  nervous  currents, 
with  all  the  energy  acquired  in  the  course  of  many  hundred 
repetitions  of  the  same  visual  impetus.  But,  when  we  pass 
from  perfect  to  imperfect  or  partial  identity,  we  are  more 
readily  made  aware  of  the  existence  of  this  link  of  attraction 
between  similars,  for  we  find  that  sometimes  the  restoration 
does  not  take  place  ;  cases  occur  where  we  fail  to  be  struck 
with  a  similitude — the  spark  does  not  pass  between  the  new 
currents  and  the  old  dormant  ones.  The  failure  in  rein- 
stating the  old  condition  by  virtue  of  the  present  stimulus, 
is  thus,  in  the  main,  ascribable  to  imperfect  identity.  When 
in  some  new  impression  of  a  thing,  the  original  form  is 
muffled,  obscured,  distorted,  disguised,  or  in  any  way  altered, 
it  is  a  chance  whether  or  not  we  identify  it :  the  amount  of 

*  To  a  mathematical  student,  this  would  be  made  at  once  intelligible  by 
saying  that,  in  tlie  former  chapter,  the  Contiguity  is  assumed  as  the  variable 
element,  and  the  Similarity  the  constant ;  in  this  chapter,  Similarity  is 
supposed  variable,  and  Contiguity  constant. 


490  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

likeness  that  remains  ^\'ill  have  a  reviving  power,  or  a  certain 
amount  of  reinstating  energy  ;  but  the  points  of  difference  or 
unhkeness  will  operate  to  resist  the  supervention  of  the  old 
state,  and  will  tend  to  revive  objects  like  themselves.  If  I 
hear  a  musical  air  that  I  have  been  accustomed  to,  the  new 
impression  revives  the  old  as  a  matter  of  course  ;  but,  if  the 
air  is  pla3'ed  w^th  complex  harmonies  and  accompaniments, 
it  is  possible  that  the  effect  of  these  additions  may  be  to 
check  my  recognition  of  the  piece — the  unlike  circumstances 
may  repel  the  reinstatement  of  the  old  experience  more 
powerfully  than  the  remaining  likeness  attracts  it,  and  I 
may  find  in  it  no  identity  whatever  with  an  air  previously 
known,  or  may  even  identify  it  with  something  altogether 
different.  If  my  hold  of  the  essential  character  of  the 
melody  is  but  feeble,  and  if  I  am  stunned  and  confounded 
with  the  new  accompaniments,  there  is  every  likelihood  that 
I  shall  not  experience  the  restoration  of  my  past  hearing 
of  the  air  intended,  and,  consequently,  I  shall  not  identify 
the  performance. 

4.  The  obstructives  to  the  revival  of  the  past  through 
similitude,  may  be  classed  under  the  two  heads — Faintness 
and  Diversit3^  There  are  instances  where  a  new  impression 
is  too  feeUe  to  strike  into  the  old-established  track  of  the 
same  impression,  and  to  make  it  alive  again  ;  as  when  we 
are  unable  to  identify  the  taste  of  a  very  weak  solution,  or  to 
discern  an  object  in  twilight  dimness.  The  most  numerous 
and  interesting  cases  come,  however,  under  the  other  head — 
Diversity,  or  mingled  likeness  and  unlikeness ;  as  when  we 
meet  an  old  acquaintance  in  a  new  dress,  or  in  circumstances 
where  we  have  never  seen  the  same  person  before.  The 
modes  of  diversity  are  countless,  and  incapable  of  being 
classified.  We  might,  indeed,  include  under  diversity  the 
other  of  the  two  heads,  seeing  that  faintness  implies  diversity 
of  degree,  if  not  of  any  other  circumstance  ;  but  I  prefer  con- 
sidering the  obstruction  arising  from  faintness  by  itself — 
after  which  we  shall  proceed  to  the  larger  field  of  examples 
marked  by  unlikeness  in  other  respects. 


HOLD    OF   THE    PAST   IMPEESSION    AX   ELEMENT.         491 

5.  The  difficulty  or  facility  in  recovering;-  a  past  mental 
condition,  at  the  suggestion  of  a  present  similitude,  will 
plainly  depend  upon  the  hold  that  the  past  impression  has 
acquired.  For  one  thing,  it  is  much  easier  to  revive  a 
familiar  image  than  an  unfamiliar,  by  the  force  of  a  new 
occurrence.  We  shall,  therefore,  have  to  keep  this  circum- 
stance in  view,  ainong  others,  in  the  course  of  our  illustration 
of  the  law  of  Similarit5^ 

It  has  to  be  considered  how  far  natural  character — that 
is,  a  primitive  endowment  of  the  intellect — enters  into  the 
power  of  reviving  similars,  or  of  bringing  together  like 
things,  in  spite  of  the  repulsion  of  unlike  accompaniments. 
There  is  much  to  be  explained  in  the  preferences  shown  by 
different  minds,  in  the  objects  that  they  most  readily  recall 
to  the  present  view  ;  which  preferences  determine  varieties 
of  character,  such  as  the  scientific  and  the  artistic  minds. 
The  explanation  of  these  differences  was  carried  up  to  a 
certain  point  under  the  Law  of  Contiguity ;  but,  if  I 
mistake  not,  there  is  still  a  portion  referable  to  the  existence 
of  various  modes  and  degrees  of  susceptibility  to  the  force 
of  Similarity.  From  all  that  I  have  been  able  to  observe, 
the  two  energies  of  contiguous  adhesion,  and  of  attraction 
of  similars,  do  not  rise  and  fall  together  in  the  intellectual 
constitution  ;  we  may  have  one  feeble  and  the  other  strong, 
in  all  proportions  and  degrees  of  adjustment. 

I  assume  for  the  present  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  an 
energetic  power  of  recognizing  similarity  in  general :  but 
there  is  no  small  difficulty  in  disentangling  such  a  power 
from  the  special  varieties  now  to  be  unfolded  ;  and  the  con- 
sideration of  the  point  may  be  reserved  to  the  close  of  the 
chapter. 

FEEBLENESS   OF   IMPRESSION. 

6.  "We  commence  with  the  case  of  Faintness,  or  Feeble- 
ness, in  the  present,  or  suggesting  impression,  considered  as 
an  obstacle  to  the  re\-ival  of  the  corresponding  previous  im- 
pression.    There  is,  in  every  instance,  a  certain  degree  of 


492  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

feebleness  that  will  disable  the  present  image  from  falling  into 
the  track  left  by  the  same  image  in  its  former  occurrence. 
When  an  extremely  faint  influence,  in  the  present,  revives 
the  old  currents,  we  are  at  liberty  to  suppose  the  restoring 
action  of  similarity  to  be  unusually  vigorous  in  that  inind, 
or  for  that  class  of  impressions.  Thus,  if,  from  a  very  feeble 
solution  of  salt  in  water,  such  as  occurs  in  many  land 
springs,  the  impression  on  the  tongue  were  sufficient  to  re- 
vive in  one  person,  and  not  in  another,  the  past  state  of 
mind  produced  by  the  tasting  of  salt,  we  should  naturally 
remark  that  the  one  excelled  the  other  in  the  attractive 
force  of  similarity,  so  far  as  concerned  that  special  taste. 
The  superiority,  however,  admits  of  being  referred  to  various 
circumstances.  (1)  In  the  first  place,  mere  natural  acute- 
ness  of  taste,  such  as  is  shown  in  nicety  of  discrimination, 
would  also  show  itself  in  greater  readiness  to  identify  a 
feeble  impression.  (2)  In  the  next  place,  there  might  be  a 
greater  previous  familiarity  with  this  particular  taste, — the 
consequence  of  repetition  and  the  other  circumstances 
favouring  retentiveness.  (3)  Distinct  from  both,  although 
apt  to  concur  with  them,  is  the  habit  of  concentrating  the 
attention  upon  the  sense  of  taste,  owing  to  some  special 
interest  or  motive.  These  are  three  circumstances  having  a 
special  or  local  reference,  and  not  implying  greater  power  of 
Similarity  on  the  whole  ;  but  we  shall  find  reason  for  believ- 
ing, on  grounds  analogous  to  those  brought  forward  in 
support  of  a  general  power  of  retentiveness,  that  persons 
may  differ  as  regards  Similarity  in  general.  If  so,  this  is  (4)  a 
fourth  alternative  explanation  in  the  case  supposed. 

7.  Such  is  an  example  taken  at  random,  to  show  what  is 
meant  by  the  revival  of  impressions  under  the  impediment 
of  feebleness.  I  might  go  systematically  through  the  Sen- 
sations of  the  various  senses,  to  gather  illustration  of  the 
same  fact.  (Movements,  apart  from  Sensations,  hardly  fur- 
nish cases  in  point.)  In  the  various  sensations  of  Organic 
Life,  there  occur  examples  of  difficult  reinstatement,  through 
feebleness  of  the  suggesting  sensation.     I  may  experience  a 


IDENTIFYING   A   FEEBLE    SENSATION.  493 

certain  uneasy  sensation,  which  I  cannot  describe  or  identify, 
because  of  its  being  too  faintly  marked  to  reproduce  the  old 
accustomed  impression  of  the  same  thing.  It  may  be  a 
derangement  of  the  stomach,  or  the  liver,  or  the  brain,  such 
as  I  have  experienced  before,  and  possess  a  durable  conception 
of  ;  but,  being  too  little  prominent  to  strike  into  the  old  track, 
it  reminds  me  of  nothing,  and  I  cannot  tell  what  it  is.  By 
and  by,  it  increases  somewhat,  and  becomes  powerful  enough 
to  reinstate  some  likeness  of  it  in  the  past ;  and  I  then  recognize 
it.  The  conditions  favourable  to  the  effect  are,  as  already 
stated,  a  great  acuteness  of  organic  sensibility,  previous 
familiarity,  and  the  habit  of  attending  to  organic  states ; 
together  with  the  general  power  of  Similarity.  A  keen 
organic  sensibility  may  be  noted  as  a  peculiarity  of  some 
constitutions,  making  the  individual  extremely  self-conscious, 
in  the  acceptation  of  being  alive  to  every  passing  change  of 
organic  state  ;  generating  hypochondria  and  the  alternation 
of  fears  and  hopes  regarding  one's  bodily  welfare.  The 
peculiarity  will  be  occasionally  found  rising  to  a  morbid 
extreme ;  as  when  the  individual  never  passes  an  hour 
without  solicitude  on  the  matter  of  health  and  mortality. 
On  the  other  hand,  obtuseness  of  feeling  to  what  is  going 
on  within  the  various  bodily  parts  is  a  defect  fraught  with 
dangerous  neglect;  while  a  needless  amount  of  distress, 
and  a  needless  waste  of  precaution,  may  be  the  result  of  too 
much  sensibihty,  whether  this  have  its  origin  in  the  sense 
or  in  the  intellect. 

8.  I  have  already  cited  an  example  from  Taste.  There 
would  be  no  material  difference  in  the  circumstances  of  a 
case  of  Smell.  When  a  very  faint  odour  is  recognized  or 
identified,  this  shows  that,  notwithstanding  the  faintness  of 
the  impression,  the  previous  sum  total  of  the  same  smell  has 
been  brought  back.  If  two  persons  be  subjected  to  a  particu- 
lar odour,  as  in  walking  through  a  garden,  and  if  one 
recognizes  it  while  the  other  does  not,  the  explanation  is 
to  be  sought,  as  before,  either  in  the  General  Power  of 
Similarity,  or  in  one  or  more  of  the  three  Special  and  Local 


494  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILAKITY. 

circumsta.nces— namely,  greater  natural  delicacy  or  acute- 
ness  of  the  organ,  greater  previous  familiarity  with  the  odour, 
and  a  habit  of  concentrating  attention  upon  odours  in 
general,  or  upon  this  in  particular.  Could  we  ascertain  that 
both  persons  had  an  equally  acute  or  delicate  nose,  we  should 
have  to  account  for  the  difference  by  the  two  other  local 
circumstances — greater  previous  familiarity,  and  the  habit 
of  attention,— or  else  by  the  power  of  Similarity  on  the 
whole.  If  we  know  that  two  persons  are  equal  as  regards 
both  familiarity  with  an  odour  and  the  habit  of  attending  to  it 
(circumstances  tolerably  easy  to  ascertain,  and  likely  to  go 
together),  the  greater  power  of  identification  displayed  by 
one  would  either  prove  a  special  delicacy  of  the  organ,  or  be 
referable  to  Similarity  in  general. 

9.  The  sense  of  Touch  does  not  appear  to  furnish  any 
instructive  case  of  the  action  of  reinstatement  made  difficult 
by  feebleness  of  impression;  for,  we  can  usually  command  any 
degree  of  contact  that  we  please.  We  may,  however,  derive 
examples  in  point  from  Hearing.  It  often  happens  that 
sounds  are  so  faint  as  to  be  barely  discernible — in  which  case, 
we  shall  observe  one  person  making  them  out,  and  another 
missing  them.  The  difference  of  acuteness  must  be  referred, 
as  before,  to  delicacy  of  ear,  to  familiarity,  to  acquired  delicacy 
through  the  habit  of  attention,  or  else  to  general  Similarity. 
The  influence  of  familiarity,  in  particular,  is  well  exemplified 
in  sounds.  Compare  the  hearing  of  our  mother  tongue  with 
the  hearing  of  a  foreign  tongue  :  every  one  knows  how  easy 
it  is  to  catch  up  an  utterance  in  the  one,  even  when  very 
faintly  pronounced,  and  how  we  fail  in  the  other  under  like 
circumstances.  The  same  contrast  is  observed  between  a 
familiar  voice  and  the  voice  of  a  stranger  :  persons  partially 
deaf  identify  the  speech  of  those  about  them,  and  are  unable  to 
understand  others  speaking  at  the  same  pitch.  This  fact 
obtains  all  through  the  field  of  associations  by  similarity  : 
the  more  thoroughly  accustomed  the  mental  system  is  to  an 
impression,  the  lighter  the  touch  needed  to  make  it  present 
at  any  moment. 


EXALTED    ACUTENESS    OF    SENSE,    HOW    EXPLICABLE.     495 

10.  The  same  line  of  illustration  can  be  carried  out 
under  the  Sense  of  Sight.  There  is  a  point  of  twili.^ht  dim- 
ness when  objects  begin  to  be  doubtful ;  they  fail  to  reinstate 
the  corresponding  previous  impressions,  whereby  their  identity 
is  made  apx3arent.  Haziness  in  the  intervening  sky,  and 
mere  distance,  have  the  same  effect.  In  those  circumstances, 
we  find  that  an  object  can  be  identified  by  one  person,  and 
not  by  others  equally  well  situated  for  discerning  it.  Famili- 
arity, together  with  professional  habits  of  attention,  will,  in 
many  cases,  explain  the  difference — as  when  a  sailor  identifies 
a  speck  on  the  horizon  as  a  ship  of  a  particular  build. 
Otherwise,  the  superiority  of  one  person  over  another  in  dis- 
cernment must  be  ascribed  either  to  sensitiveness  of  the  eye, 
or  to  the  force  of  similarity  in  general. 

11.  In  the  case  of  very  exalted  acuteness  of  sense,  such 
as  we  witness  among  the  Indians,  who  can  discern  the  tread 
of  horses  at  a  great  distance  by  applying  the  ear  to  the 
ground,  and  who  have  also  a  high  degree  of  long-sightedness, 
we  must  refer  principally  to  the  two  circumstances  included 
in  the  education  of  the  eye — familiarity  and  habitual  concen- 
tration. It  may  be  that  natural  acuteness  of  sense  is  heredi- 
tary in  their  mode  of  life ;  still,  practice  is,  undoubtedly,  a 
main  cause  of  the  remarkable  difference  in  this  respect 
between  these  savage  tribes  and  the  generality  of  mankind. 
The  education  is  not  simply  a  frequent  repetition  of  the  sen- 
sations of  the  tramp  of  horses  or  of  men  on  the  ear,  but  the 
concentration  of  the  brain  upon  the  sense,  on  those  occasions, 
whereby  an  intense  stretch  of  attention  habitually  accom- 
panies the  act  of  listening.  The  degree  of  voluntary  atten- 
tion given  to  an  observation  of  sense  will,  at  any  time,  make 
the  sensation  more  acute  :  a  habit  of  absorbing  attention 
will  generate  a  permanent  acuteness  at  the  expense  of 
attention  to  other  things.  A  painter  will  be  the  more 
impressed  with  a  landscape  that  he  is  deaf  to  the  song  of 
birds,  the  hmn  of  insects,  or  the  murmur  of  the  breeze  ;  the 
whole  soul,  passing  into  one  sense,  aggrandizes  that  sense 
and  starves  the  rest. 


496  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

12.  The  acuteness  of  the  senses  in  animals  may,  in  like 
manner,  be  accounted  for.  The  scent  of  the  dog  resolves 
itself  into  the  identification  of  an  exceedingly  faint  impres- 
sion. An  effluvium  on  the  nostrils  of  a  pointer,  revives  the 
former  impression  of  the  smell  of  a  hare ;  while,  on  the  human 
nose,  the  same  effluvium  is  utterly  devoid  of  effect.  Here 
we  must  attribute  the  distinction  neither  to  education  nor 
to  the  force  of  the  association  of  similarity,  but  to  the 
acuteness  of  the  smelling  organ.  Any  given  smell  will  pro- 
duce a  far  more  intense  sensation  in  a  dog  than  in  a  man. 
If  we  take  a  scent  sufficiently  strong  to  be  perceived  by  both — 
as  when  the  hare  is  brought  close  enough  to  affect  as  a  smell 
the  human  nose — the  man  is  calm  in  his  manifestations, 
whereas  the  dog  is  furious  in  his  excitement.  By  this,  we 
can  see  that  such  is  the  organization  of  the  smelling  organ 
of  the  dog  that  impressions  made  on  it  are  transmitted  to 
the  brain  in  a  highly  magnified  state ;  and,  further,  it  may 
be,  that  the  brain  is  specially  inflammable  to  a  particular 
class  of  sensations  of  smell,  an  effect  to  which  nothing 
corresponding  is  found  in  the  human  constitution. 

The  far-sightedness  of  birds  depends,  in  part,  on  the 
adaptation  of  their  eyes  to  distant  vision.  It  corresponds 
with  the  far-sightedness  of  persons  habituated  to  remote 
objects,  or  to  the  change  that  age  makes  in  the  lenses  of  the 
human  eye.  We  have  had  occasion  to  notice  the  superior 
development  of  the  adapting  muscles  of  the  eye  in  birds, 
whereby  the  organ  can  go  through  a  greater  range  of  adjust- 
ment than  is  in  the  power  of  other  animals. 

In  the  examples  under  the  present  head,  we  have  thus 
brought  into  view,  as  circumstances  affecting  the  recall  of 
past  impression  by  a  present,  a  power  operating  generally, 
and  three  local  conditions.  Probably,  in  all  these  instances, 
the  special  conditions  are  of  far  more  importance  than  the 
general ;  but,  whether  the  natural  or  the  acquired  delicacy  of 
a  sense  usually  tells  most,  we  do  not  pretend  to  decide. 


DIVERSITY   AS    PREVENTING   RESUSCITATION.  497 

SIMILARITY  IN  DIVERSITY.— SENSATIONS. 

13.  We  now  approach  the  case  that  contains  the  greatest 
amount  of  interesting  appHcations — the  case  of  similarity 
disguised  by  mixture  with  foreign  elements,  the  Like  in  the 
midst  of  the  Unlike.  There  is  often  very  great  difficulty  in 
recognizing  an  old  familiar  object,  owing  to  alterations  that 
have  been  made  upon  it.  Coming  back  after  a  lapse  of  years 
to  a  place  where  we  have  formerly  been,  we  find  houses  and 
streets  and  fields  and  persons  so  altered  that  we  at  first  fail  to 
identify  them  ;  the  differences  that  have  overgrown  the  per- 
manent features  are,  in  many  cases,  such  as  to  destroy  their 
power  of  reinstating  the  past  impressions.  When  likeness 
is  thus  surrounded  with  diversity,  it  is  a  doubtful  point 
whether  the  attraction  of  similars  will  succeed  in  reviving 
the  old  by  means  of  the  new.  In  these  cases  of  doubtful 
and  difficult  reinstatement,  there  may  be  observed  great 
differences  in  the  intellectual  reach  of  individuals.  Of  a 
number  of  persons  placed  in  a  similar  predicament,  some 
will  be  struck  with  the  likeness — the  flash  of  identity  will 
come  over  them,  and  the  past  will  stand  side  by  side  with 
its  muffled  likeness  in  the  present;  others,  again,  will  see  no 
identity — the  attraction  of  the  new  for  the  old  will,  in  them, 
be  overborne  and  quenched  by  the  surrounding  diversity. 

To  trace  the  workings  of  the  attractive  force  of  simi- 
larity in  its  struggles  with  the  obstruction  of  unlike  accom- 
paniments, I  count  one  of  the  most  interesting  problems  of 
mental  science  ;  and  I  trust  that,  in  the  course  of  the  illus- 
tration that  will  occupy  the  remainder  of  the  present 
chapter,  my  readers  will  grow  to  be  of  the  same  opinion. 
Although  any  natural  defect  in  this  link  of  reproduction  is 
perhaps  less  capable  of  being  made  up  by  artificial  means 
than  in  the  case  of  Contiguity,  yet  we  shall  see  that  here  too 
there  are  circumstances,  under  our  control,  that  aid  in  clear- 
ing the  way  for  the  reviving  stroke  of  similarity. 

14.  Before  proceeding  to  the  main   subject  under  the 

present  head, — namely,  the  Sensations, — I  shall  advert  to  the 

32 


498  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

one  case  of  Action,  or  Movement,  that  furnishes  interesting 
examples  of  the  working  of  the  present  law  —I  mean  articu- 
late action,  or  Speech.  In  the  numerous  and  various  trains 
of  articulation  entering  into  our  education  in  language,  there 
are  many  instances  of  recurring  likeness  in  the  midst  of 
unlikeness,  leading  to  the  revival  of  the  past  by  the  present. 
We  are  constantly  recalling  past  sayings  of  our  own  and  of 
other  people,  and  passages  of  writings  that  we  have  read,  by 
hitting  on  catch-words  or  identical  phrases  when  our  thoughts 
are  running  in  some  quite  different  channel.  The  single 
word  '  frenzy,'  uttered  with  emphasis,  will  recall,  in  a  mind 
familiar  with  the  passage,  '  The  poet's  eye  in  a  fine  frenzy 
rolling ' ;  the  principal  epithet  in  such  a  case  being  enough  to 
reinstate  the  entire  connected  train.  Through  the  suggestion 
of  common  words,  we  can  thus  leap  from  one  passage  to 
another,  by  the  remotest  fetches,  in  an  endless  succession  of 
recollections.  The  character  of  the  mind  will  determine  the 
prevailing  character  of  the  revived  sayings :  in  one  mind, 
they  will  be  poetical  and  ornate ;  in  another,  the  preference 
will  be  for  prose  melody ;  in  a  third,  epigram  and  wit ;  m  a 
fourth,  sententious  wisdom  and  prudential  saws.  The  say- 
ings and  passages  that  have  been  impressed  upon  us,  in  the 
course  of  our  education,  will  come  up  through  the  medium  of 
common  phrases  ;  and  the  general  power  of  similarity  in  the 
mind,  modified  by  the  quality  of  the  Articulate  sensibility 
in  particular,  will  determine  the  abundance  of  this  class  of 
revivals — in  other  words,  the  quantity  of  speech  flowing  into 
the  utterance  of  the  individual.  The  force  of  Contiguity 
strings  together  in  the  mind  words  that  have  been  uttered 
together ;  the  force  of  Similarity  brings  forward  recollections 
from  different  times  and  circumstances  and  connexions,  and 
makes  a  new  train  out  of  many  old  ones.  I  may  have  learnt, 
at  one  time,  a  passage  from  Milton  ;  at  another,  an  extract 
from  Pope ;  on  a  third  occasion,  a  piece  from  Campbell.  Mere 
contiguity  would  enable  me,  when  reminded  of  the  commenc- 
ing words  of  any  of  these  passages,  to  repeat  the  whole  ;  but 
the   energetic   working   of  similarity    causes   me   to   break 


CASE    OF   ARTICULATE    SPEECH.  499 

into  any  one  or  all  of  them,  while  speaking  on  some  remote 
subject.  I  chance  to  fall  upon  two  or  three  words  resembling 
an  expression  in  one  of  the  pieces  ;  and,  notwithstanding  the 
diversity  of  the  context,  the  old  stream  of  recollection  is 
re-constituted,  and  the  entire  passage  brought  within  my 
command.  The  attraction  of  sameness  is  here  manifested 
as  overcoming  the  repulsion  of  diversity.  I  am  uttering  a 
connected  series  of  words  ;  and,  among  these,  one,  two,  or 
three  have  by  chance  the  echo  of  one  of  the  falls  of  an  old 
utterance.  Instantly,  I  feel  myself  plunged  in  the  entire 
current  of  the  past,  and  may  avail  myself  of  any  portion  of 
it  to  serve  my  present  end  in  speaking.  Neither  the  unlike- 
ness  of  the  context,  nor  the  totally  foreign  nature  of  the 
subject-matter,  will  stifle  the  reviving  action  in  a  mind  very 
much  alive  to  articulate  effects.  As  Contiguous  adhesive- 
ness is  measured  by  the  fewness  of  repetitions  necessary  to 
fix  a  connected  speech  in  the  memory,  Similarity  is  measured 
by  the  amount  of  repulsion  and  disparity  that  can  be  over- 
come, in  bringing  an  old  train  forward  by  the  force  of  a  new 
one. 

Unlikeness  of  circumstances  and  situations  is  no  bar  to 
the  revival  of  past  expressions,  any  more  than  ditference  of 
verbal  context  and  subject-matter.  A  word  casually  spoken 
in  some  present  emergency,  will  often  revive  a  stream  of 
recollections  and  incidents  long  past,  where  that  word 
chanced  to  figure  as  an  important  turning-point  of  the 
history.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  fall  into  the  phrase  '  every 
man  to  do  his  duty,'  without  being  put  on  the  track  of  our 
recollection  of  Nelson's  last  victory.  So,  the  word  '  duty  '  is 
liable  at  any  time  to  bring  up  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 
These  verbal  coincidences  are  one  great  link  of  connexion 
between  us  and  our  past  experiences ;  they  put  us  ever  and 
anon  upon  the  track  of  some  bygone  incident  in  our  history. 
And  the  more  alive  we  are  to  the  influence  of  words,  the  larger 
is  the  share  of  reviving  efficacy  that  belongs  to  them. 

The  hold   that   we   have   of  language   is   not   confined 
to  the  articulate   organs,    but   extends  over  the    senses    of 


500  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

hearing  and  sight,  and  is  besides  influenced  by  the  emotions  ; 
and  I  shall,  therefore,  have  to  recur  to  the  topic  on  various 
occasions.  In  this  illustration,  which  started  from  articulate 
speech,  we  have  anticipated  the  theme  of  Language  generally, 
— which  must,  nevertheless,  be  resumed  in  a  future  page, 
in  consequence  of  the  importance  of  language  in  our  intel- 
lectual operations. 

Besides  the  general  power  of  Similarity,  all  the  special  or 
local  conditions  of  revival  under  Feebleness  apply  to  re^'ival 
under  diversity — (1)  acuteness  of  sense,  (2)  previous  famili- 
arity,  (3)  acquired  delicacy  or  habits  of  attention  ;  and  to 
these,  another  has  now  to  be  added.     In  the  case  of  a  pre- 
sent object  bringing  up  a  past,  both  resembling  it  and  also 
differing  from  it,  there  is,  obviously,  a  struggle  or  contest  of 
attracting  similarities.  In  the  example  now  given — language, 
— a  certain  passage  before  the  mind  may  bring  up,  from  the 
past,  another  passage  resembling  in  expression,  but  differing 
in  sense  ;  or  a  passage  resembling  in  sense,  but  differing  in 
expression.    This  shows  that  both  peculiarities  have  a  power 
of  attraction,  each  for  its  own  kind,  although  one  prevails, 
and  is  thereupon  called  the  stronger  attraction.     ABC  is 
liable  to  bring  up  ADE,  the  likeness  being  struck  on  A;   or 
BFG,  on  the  likeness  of  B  ;  or  CHI,  on  the  likeness  of  C. 
The  attraction  of  B  for  some  combination  where  it  enters, 
and  of  C  for  a  combination  where  it  enters,  have  to  be  over- 
come by  A,  in  order  to  secure  the  recovery  of  ADE.     Now, 
the  less  active  B   and  C   are,  the  more  easily  will  A  pre- 
dominate and  effect  the  recall ;  that  is,  if  all  the  local  con- 
ditions above  specified  are  of  a  low  order  as  respects  B  and 
C,  while  the  same  conditions  are  well  developed  in  A,  the 
chances  in  favour  of  A  are  proportionally  great.     Hence,  the 
additional  circumstance  applicable  to  Similarity  in   Diver- 
sity is — a  lovj  susceptibility,  or  comparative  insensihility ,  to  the 
points  of  difference.     A  speech  will  recall  by  preference  other 
speeches  resembling  in   diction,   if  the  individual  is  more- 
highly  susceptible  to  language,  than  to  meaning  or  subject- 
matter.     It  is  assumed    on  each    occasion,  that    some  one 


LOW    SUSCEPTIBILITY    TO    POINTS    OF   DIFFERENCE.       501 

feature  is  the  practically  important  circumstance,  with  refer- 
ence to  which  all  other  features  are  treated  in  the  light  of 
obstacles  to  be  got  rid  of  or  overpowered.  As  regards  the 
workings  of  the  mind,  however, — that  is,  the  reviving  stroke 
of  similars, — every  one  of  the  distinctive  features  asserts  itself, 
and  the  recall  will  show  which  is  the  most  favoured  by  the 
circumstances  that  impart  efficiency  to  the  reviving  opera- 
tion. When  we  come  to  inquire  whether  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  general  similarity,  it  is  this  consideration  that  will 
be  found  most  relevant  in  the  discussion. 

15.  To  pass  to  the  Sensations.  In  Organic  Life,  there 
are  many  cases  of  a  sensation  repeated  with  new  admixtures, 
serving  to  disguise  its  character,  and  to  prevent  its  recalling 
the  former  instances  of  the  same  impressions.  It  often 
happens  that  the  same  organic  state  is  produced  by  very 
different  causes.  A  shock  of  grief,  a  glut  of  pleasure,  a  fit 
of  overworking,  an  accidental  loss  of  two  or  three  nights' 
rest,  may  all  end  in  the  very  same  kind  of  headache,  stupor, 
or  feeling  of  discomfort ;  but  the  great  difference  in  the 
antecedents  may  prevent  our  identifpng  the  occasions.  The 
derangement  caused  by  grief  is  more  likely  to  recall  a 
previous  occasion  of  a  similar  grief,  than  to  suggest  a  time 
of  overdone  enjoyment  ;  the  sameness  in  organic  state  is,  in 
the  case  of  such  a  parallel,  nullified  by  the  repulsion  of 
opposites  in  the  accompanying  circumstances :  a  state  of 
grief  does  not  permit  a  time  of  pleasure  to  be  recalled  and 
dwelt  upon  ;  the  loss  of  a  parent  at  home  is  not  compatible 
with  the  remembrance  of  a  long  night  of  gaiety  abroad. 
Hence,  we  do  not  identify  the  supposed  state  of  organic  de- 
pression with  all  the  previous  recurrences  of  the  same  state  ; 
unless,  indeed,  a  scientific  education  has  made  us  aware  of 
the  sameness  of  the  physical  effects  resulting  from  the  most 
dissimilar  causes. 

16.  Under  Taste,  we  have  examples  of  a  like  nature.  A 
taste  may  be  so  disguised  by  mixture  as  to  be  undiscernible  ; 
the  presence  of  the  other  ingredients  operating  to  resist  the 
reviving  power  of  the  one  that  we  desire  to  identify.     In  a 


502  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

solution  of  Epsom  salts,  we  should  not  be  able  to  discern  a 
small  quantity  of  sugar ;  the  saline  bitter  of  the  salts  over- 
powering the  sugary  taste.  Again,  when  malt  liquor  becomes 
sour,  we  are  unable  to  discriminate  any  longer  the  alcoholic 
taste  :  the  acid  taste  overcomes  every  other  sensation.  If, 
in  such  a  case,  the  alcohol  is  still  discernible  by  any  one  per- 
son, when  others  fail  to  perceive  it,  we  should  say  that  such 
a  one's  memory  had  been  specially  impressed  by  alcohol. 

17.  Hitherto,  I  have  spoken  of  sensations  identified  through 
actual  sameness  ;  the  identification  being  impeded  only  by 
other  sensations  mixed  up  with  them.  A  case  of  greater  com- 
plicacy and  more  importance  is  furnished  by  the  existence  of 
sensations  really  different,  but  having  something  in  common 
that  cannot  be  seized  by  itself.  Take  as  an  instance  the  tastes 
of  the  various  wines.  These  are  all  different ;  and,  if  similarity 
acted  only  in  absolute  sameness,  port  would  remind  us  only  of 
port,  claret  of  claret,  madeira  of  madeira,  and  so  on.  But  we 
find  that  there  is  so  much  of  a  common  influence  in  all  wines, 
that  any  of  them  can  remind  us  of  a  great  many  others  ; 
we,  at  the  same  time,  noting  points  of  difference,  when  they 
are  thus  brought  into  comparison.  It  is  this  common  influ- 
ence, with  its  suggesting  power,  that  has  led  mankind  to 
constitute  what  is  termed  a  class,  or  a  genus,  '  wine,'  com- 
prehending many  widely-scattered  individuals.  The  identi- 
fication of  likeness,  in  the  midst  of  unlikeness — in  other 
words,  of  a  common  property — is  the  essence  of  this  classi- 
fying operation.  A  class  is  distinct  from  a  catalogue  by 
virtue  of  a  common  resemblance,  in  the  midst  of  diversity. 
Again,  the  class,  '  wines,'  identified  through  their  common 
organic  sensation  and  taste,  is  merged  in  a  larger  class  when 
spirituous  liquors  come  to  be  known.  There  is  felt  to  be  an 
identity  between  the  principal  effect  of  these  liquors  on  the 
system,  and  the  effect  of  the  various  members  of  the  vinous 
group.  The  class  is  now  extended  ;  yet,  because  of  there 
being  some  features  common  to  wines  that  do  not  attach  to 
spirits,  the  wines  are  still  retained  in  a  group  apart,  subor- 
dinate to  the  larger  group,  or  as  a  species  coming  under  the 


TASTES    IDENTIFIED — CLASSIFICATION.  505 

other  as  a  genus.  The  addition  of  malt  hquors  to  the  com- 
parison extends  the  identity  still  farther,  and  enlarges  the 
class  of  substances  that  suggest  one  another  through  the 
common  quality  of  causing  intoxication.  These  malt  liquors, 
being  themselves  identical  in  more  points  than  those  com- 
mon to  them  with  wines  and  distilled  spirits,  they  also  make 
a  small  species  by  themselves,  contained  in  the  comprehen- 
sive genus  of  intoxicating  drinks. 

It  was  not  discovered  at  first  that  this  influence,  common 
to  so  many  substances  derived  from  such  various  natural 
sources  (the  grape,  the  sugar-cane,  barley,  oats,  rice,  etc.), 
was  owing  to  one  sole  ingredient  occurring  under  various 
combinations.  The  identification  has  proceeded  solely  on 
their  common  influence  on  the  human  system,  and  not  from 
a  knowledge  of  the  common  element,  alcohol.  Had  the 
grouping  proceeded  on  this  perception,  the  case  would  have 
been  exactly  like  the  cases  already  described,  where  a  taste  or 
smell  is  identified  in  its  mixtures  with  other  tastes  or  smells. 
It  was,  however,  a  generalization  of  a  common  internal 
feeling  or  attribute,  not  of  a  common  external  object. 

Another  example  akin  to  the  foregoing  is  furnished  by 
the  Pungent  Odours.  The  influence  of  the  various  kinds 
of  snuff  upon  the  nose  is  so  well  marked,  that  we  readily 
identif}^  it  notwithstanding  differences  of  aroma  or  flavour. 
Upon  this  similarity,  we  group  all  the  different  varieties  to- 
gether, and  make  a  class  of  bodies,  any  one  of  which  may  be 
used  for  any  other  when  the  common  effect  of  narcotic  pun- 
gency is  desired.  The  kinds  of  snuff  w^ould  doubtless  also  be 
identified  on  the  ground  of  their  common  origin,  the  tobacco 
plant,  like  wines  by  the  grape.  But,  looking  at  the  subjective 
sensation  of  the  snuffs,  we  find  that  this  assimilates  itself  to 
a  like  sensation  produced  from  other  bodies  :  thus,  the  odour 
of  smelling  salts  may,  by  similarity,  recall  the  odour  of  snuff's, 
and  the  two  different  substances  will  hence  be  brought 
together  in  the  mind.  If  we  have  at  any  time  acquired  the 
impression  of  hartshorn,  this  impression  also  might  be  re- 
called in  virtue  of  its  resemblance  to  these  others  :  we  should 


504  AGEEEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

then  have  three  distinct  experiences  summoned  up  from  differ- 
ent times  and  circmnstances  of  our  past  history ;  these  experi- 
ences presenting  three  different  substances  lying  quite  remote 
from  one  another  in  nature,  but  now  brought  together  under 
the  view  of  the  mind,  through  exerting  on  it  a  common  influ- 
ence. If  our  acquaintance  with  pungent  odours  had  been 
still  greater,  others  would  be  recalled  to  join  the  group 
already  formed  ;  and  we  should  have  amassed,  from  far  and 
near,  a  multitude  of  recollections  strung  upon  one  common 
thread  of  resemblance ;  and  these  recollections  would  thence- 
forth be  held  together  as  a  group  in  the  mind,  forming  what 
we  term  a  class,  a  genus,  or  a  generalization  of  agreeing 
objects. 

In  this  instance,  there  is  no  external  element  common 
to  all  the  bodies  producing  the  pungent  effect :  the  classifi- 
cation is  based  purely  on  the  common  sensation  of  smell. 
The  smelling  salts  and  hartshorn  are  identical,  inasmuch  as 
both  yield  ammonia ;  but  the  effluvium  of  snuff'  is  not 
ammonia,  although  found  to  bear  a  resemblance  to  it  in 
chemical  constitution. 

These  various  identifications  put  to  the  test  the  force  of 
similarity  in  different  individuals.  While  seized  by  some 
minds,  they  are  wholly  missed  by  others  ;  and  the  reason  for 
their  being  missed  usually  resolves  itself  into  deficiency  in 
one  or  more  of  the  five  conditions  already  recounted — natural 
delicacy  of  the  sense  itself,  previous  familiarity,  acquired 
delicacy,  low  susceptibility  to  the  points  of  difference,  and 
general  power  of  Similarity.  Moreover,  there  may  never 
have  been  any  motive  or  desire  to  strike  out  identities  in 
the  department. 

18.  The  illustration  of  Similarity  in  Touch  might  be  very 
copious. 

The  intellectual  sensations  of  Touch  comprise  the  feel- 
ings of  Temperature,  of  Plurality  of  points,  and  of  Muscu- 
larity in  conjunction  with  touch  proper.  Everything  handled 
for  the  purpose  of  discerning  its  tactile  properties  affects  all 
these  sensibilities ;  and  there  may  be  the  greatest  variety  in 


TOUCHES   IDENTIFIED.  505 

their  conjunctions,  and  a  corresponding  scope  for  detecting 
likeness  coupled  with  unlikeness.  We  identify  the  soft,  warm 
contact  of  wool ;  the  cold,  hard  smoothness  of  polished  stone ; 
the  roughness  of  a  file — in  the  midst  of  diversity  of  shape, 
size,  and  weight.  We  identify  degrees  of  weight  with- 
out much  difficulty,  unless  distracted  by  some  very  acute 
accompanpng  sensibility,  as  cold  or  heat.  We  recognize 
tactile  shape  in  variety  of  surface,  material,  weight,  and  size. 
Our  discrimination  of  distinct  properties  becomes  knowledge, 
only  when  supplemented  by  our  sense  of  agreement :  a  pre- 
sent high  temperature  is  distinguished  from  a  recent  lower, 
and  identified  with  previous  experiences  of  the  same  intense 
degree  ;  by  which  means  our  notion  of  that  quality  is  com- 
plete. We  are  thus  in  possession  of  classes  of  things,  based 
upon  each  recurring  attribute  that  we  are  able  to  identify  in 
the  midst  of  diverse  accompaniments. 

19.  To  take  next  the  sense  of  Hearing.  The  analysis  of 
sounds  has  shown  us  the  complexity  of  the  characters  attach- 
ing to  any  one  individual  sound,  and  to  what  extent  identity 
in  some  of  these  may  be  disguised  by  differences  in  others. 
For  example,  the  pitch  of  a  note  may  be  readily  identified 
when  sounded  on  some  voice  or  instrument  familiar  to  us  ; 
but,  on  a  strange  instrument,  we  are  less  able  to  make  out  the 
identity.  The  change  of  quality  in  the  note,  the  greater  or 
less  emphasis,  the  different  duration  of  the  sound, — as  in  com- 
paring a  piano  note  with  an  organ, — all  tend  to  disguise  the 
pitch,  and  to  render  a  more  delicate  or  a  more  cultivated  ear 
necessary  for  its  recognition.  If  the  same  note  be  played 
feebly  on  the  violin  and  thundered  on  the  organ,  the  great 
disparity  of  emphasis  will  confound  the  obtuse  ear,  and  stifle 
the  feeling  of  identity. 

The  illustration  takes  a  wider  sweep,  when  we  suppose  a 
continuous  flow  of  a  sound, — as  in  a  musical  performance  or 
a  consecutive  address.  The  effects  on  the  ear  being  more 
varied,  there  is  greater  scope  for  tracing  similarities,  and 
more  opportunity  for  the  obstacle  arising  from  diversity. 
We  can  usually  identify  an  air  that  we  have  once  known. 


506  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

on  all  varieties  of  instruments,  and  with  or  without  har- 
monies. But  it  will  happen  to  persons,  little  accomplished 
in  music,  to  miss  a  known  air  when  played  on  a  full  band, 
while  they  could  readily  identify  it  on  a  single  instrument. 
Musicians  can  also  identify  the  key  of  a  piece,  although  this 
point  of  identity  must  be  enveloped  in  the  widest  differences 
as  regards  everything  else.  We  are  also  accustomed  to 
ascribe  a  common  emotion  to  many  compositions  ;  we 
classify  airs  as  martial,  gay,  solemn,  sacred,  melancholy.  In 
so  far  as  there  is  any  reality  in  these  distinctions,  they  are 
made  out  by  the  force  of  similarity,  recalling  past  and  scat- 
tered examples  of  an  effect  felt  at  the  present  moment.  A 
more  substantial  agreement  is  that  generally  found  in  the 
compositions  of  the  same  master. 

The  property  of  articulateness  of  sound  is  very  apt  to  be 
disguised,  by  strange  accompaniments,  beyond  the  reach  of 
identity.  Our  ear  for  articulation  is  formed,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, on  the  voices  around  us  :  we  identify  with  ease  a 
letter  or  a  word  as  pronounced  by  those  ;  in  fact,  the  casual 
peculiarities  of  their  manner  become,  as  it  were,  fused  with 
our  sense  of  the  articulations  themselves.  A  child  born  in 
Yorkshire  acquires  an  ear  for  the  vowels  and  consonants  of 
the  alphabet  as  sounded  in  Yorkshire.  If  we  pass  into 
Middlesex,  the  articulations  correspond,  without  being  iden- 
tical ;  and  we  may  or  may  not  identify  the  old  words  under 
the  new  utterance.  The  experiment  would  show  whether 
the  ear  is  good  as  respects  the  essential  quality  of  articulate 
form,  just  as  the  trials  above  alluded  to  show  the  degree  of 
delicacy  as  regards  the  pitch  of  a  note.  Some  ears  are  but 
faintly  susceptible  to  the  distinctiveness  of  the  articulations, 
or  to  the  essential  difference  between  one  vowel  and  another, 
and  between  one  consonant  and  those  closely  allied  to  it. 
If  such  ears  happen  to  be  acutely  sensible  to  the  qualities 
of  different  voices,  and  to  differences  of  emphasis,  or  stress, 
they  will  be  more  strongly  acted  on  by  the  disagreements 
than  by  the  agreements. 

Pronunciation,  accent  or  brogue,  cadence  and  elocution 


ARTICULATENESS  OF  SOUND  IDENTIFIED  IN  DIFFERENCE.    507 

generally,  form  a  large  part  of  the  collective  impression  of 
articulate  utterance :  to  which  we  must  add  gesticulation 
and  manner  as  apparent  to  the  eye.  Taking  all  these  sources 
of  diversity  in  connexion  with  the  one  main  feature  of 
articulate  utterance,  we  may  derive  an  unlimited  fund  of 
examples  of  reinstatement  made  difficult  by  unlike  accom- 
paniments. A^oice,  pronunciation,  accent,  cadence,  and 
gesticulation,  are  inseparable  from  articulation ;  and  we 
become  accustomed  to  the  sound  of  words  as  beset  with  a 
particular  mode  of  each  of  these  effects.  Often,  indeed,  we 
take  up  a  meaning  from  manner  alone.  Accordingly,  when 
we  come  to  listen  to  strangers,  to  the  people  of  another 
province,  to  foreigners,  we  experience  the  difficulty  of  iden- 
tifying the  articulation  in  the  midst  of  unusual  combinations. 
The  goodness  of  the  ear  for  articulation  proper  is  submitted 
to  a  trying  ordeal,  as  the  ear  for  pitch  is  tested  by  the 
sound  of  a  strange  instrument.  The  trial  is  greatest  of  all 
when  we  are  endeavouring  to  acquire  a  foreign  language. 
Here,  the  one  effect  of  the  articulation  of  vowels  and  con- 
sonants needs  to  make  itself  felt  amid  the  distraction  of  a 
manifold  variety  of  other  effects.  Nothing  proves  so 
decisively  the  goodness  of  the  articulate  sensibility  of  the 
ear,  as  the  readiness  to  follow  a  foreigner  speaking  his  own 
language.  The  power  of  identifying  the  essentials  of  the 
articulation,  in  the  diversity  of  all  else,  is  in  such  circum- 
stances conspicuously  manifested.  It  will  happen,  however, 
that  a  person  is  more  than  usually  sensitive  to  some  of  the 
accompaniments  that  do  not  concern  the  conveyance  of  the 
meaning:  an  ear  strongly  impressed  with  the  accent  and 
cadence,  and  permitting  itself  to  be  much  engrossed  with 
the  different  turns  of  the  emphasis  and  modulation  is,  by 
that  circumstance,  rendered  more  obtuse  to  the  articulate 
character  or  to  the  meaning  of  the  words.  The  thunder  of 
a  diverse  and  unaccustomed  cadence  drowns  the  still  small 
voice  of  expressive  utterance.  An  acute  ear  for  oratory  is 
thus  a  great  obstruction  to  the  acquirement  of  languages  ; 
so  is   an  eye    unduly  impressed    with    gesticulate   display. 


508  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

In  listening  to  our  own  language,  spoken  in  the  stjde  that 
we  are  accustomed  to,  the  sensitiveness  to  tliose  accompani- 
ments is  in  our  favour,  and  brings  home  the  meaning  all 
the  more  powerfully ;  but,  when  they  are  totally  changed 
in  character — as  when  we  listen  to  a  Frenchman — we  are 
just  as  much  put  out,  in  identifying  the  articulation,  as  in 
the  other  case  we  were  assisted. 

20.  The  ear,  as  formerly  remarked,  is  the  principal  matrix 
for  embodying  our  recollections  of  language.  A  speech  heard 
is,  in  greatest  part,  remembered  as  a  connected  series  of 
auditory  impressions.  Our  recollections  of  this  class  are 
liable  to  be  awakened  by  similarity,  under  circumstances  of 
diversity.  We  can  scarcely  listen  to  any  address,  without 
being  reminded  of  many  past  addresses,  through  occurring 
phrases,  tones,  and  peculiarities  that  lead  us  into  some 
formerly  experienced  track  of  impressions  on  our  ear.  The 
greater  our  susceptibility  to  the  articulate  quality  that  governs 
distinctness  of  meaning,  the  more  readily  shall  we  fall  upon 
previous  addresses  that  correspond  in  phraseology ;  if  we 
are  more  aHve  to  tone,  accent,  and  cadence,  these  qualities 
will  preside  over  the  recall  of  the  former  occasions  when  we 
were  in  the  position  of  listeners.  In  this  way,  we  are  led  to 
detect  similarities  of  manner  and  phrase  in  different  speakers ; 
we  hunt  out  imitation  and  plagiarism,  and  institute  com- 
parisons among  various  styles  of  address.  With  regard  to 
the  diversities  tending  to  obstruct  the  reviving  impetus  of 
likeness,  they  may  lie  in  the  context  of  the  agreeing  phrases, 
or  in  the  other  peculiarities  not  connected  with  meaning,  or 
else  in  the  subject-matter  and  sentiment  of  the  address.  As 
in  former  cases,  we  pronounce  the  attraction  of  similarity 
powerful  when  it  breaks  through  a  great  discordance,  and  the 
discordance  great  that  arrests  the  reviving  stroke  of  similarity; 
in  fact,  we  must  measure  each  force  by  the  opposition  that  it 
conquers.  If  a  verbal  likeness  has  the  effect  of  interpolating 
some  old  recollection,  in  a  subject  most  discordant  with  it, 
we  pronounce  the  conditions  aiding  verbal  similarity  to  be 
highly  developed,  or  the  regard  to  the  subject  feeble,  or  both. 


COLOUKS   IDENTIFIED,  509 

21.  Among  Sensations  of  Sight,  the  occasions  for  identi- 
fjring  sameness  in  diversity  correspond  with  the  wide  range 
of  the  sense.     We  can  identify  colours,  in  spite  of  difference 
of  shade  ;    obtaining  classes    of  bhies,    of   reds,    of  yellows. 
The   existence  of  such  classes  implies  both  sameness  and 
difference  ;  the  class-name  being  derived  from  the  sameness, 
or  the  effect  coinmon  to  all  the  individuals,     ^^^len  a  colour 
is  intermediate  between  two  principal  colours,  as  between 
yellow   and   red,    we   maj^  fail   to  class  it  with  either,  not 
being  struck  with  any  feeling  of  identity  in  the  case  ;  where- 
upon, we  constitute  a  new  colour,  as  orange.     It  may  also 
happen  that,  to  one  mind,  the  colour  may  appear  as  red,  and 
to  another  yellow,  according  to  the  previous  impression  that 
it  most  readily  revives.     Next,  as  to  the  property  of  lustre  : 
a  varnished  substance,  a  glossy  fabric,  a  polished  surface  in 
metal  or  stone,  a  film  of  wet,  a  clear  brook,  a  covering  of 
glass, — all  strike  the  mind  with  a  common  effect   of  bril- 
liancy ;  and,  if  the  power  of  similarity  is  sufficient,  each  one 
of  these  effects  may  recall  the  others,  so  as  to  muster  in 
the  present  view  a  host  of  things,  very  different  in  general 
appearance,    but    all   agreeing   in    a   particular   impression. 
Looking  at  a  brilliantly  polished  marble  chimney-piece,  one 
man  may  be  reminded  only  of  polished  stones  of   various 
kinds  ;  another,  breaking  through  a  greater  shroud  of  diver- 
sity, compares  the  effect  with  metallic  polish.     Speculating 
yet  further  on  the  kind  of  influence  exerted  on  the  mind 
by  such  effects,  a  third  person  brings  up  a  still  more  remote 
subject,  varnished  surfaces  ;  from  these,  he  may  proceed  to 
glossy   silks  and  polished  leather ;  and,   by   a  stretch   still 
more  remote,  he  may  include  in  the  comparison  the  effect 
of  a  pebbly  bottom  through  a  clear  running  rivulet.    But,  in 
order  to  carry  an  identity  so  far  as  would  be  implied  in  this 
series  of  objects,  it  would  be  necessary  that  one  should  have 
not  merely  a  feeling  of  the  common  effect,  of  lustrous  bril- 
liancy, but  also  a  notion  of  its  depending  on  a  transparent 
covering  over  a  mass  of  colour.     Such  notion,  added  to  the 
feeling  of  the  effect,  might  enable  one  to  break  through  the 


510  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

great  difference  between  a  marble  chimney-piece  and  a  pool 
of  water. 

In  the  combinations  of  colour  with  visible  Form  and  Size 
— the  optical  with  the  muscular  impressions  of  sight,— we 
have  an  additional  scope  for  tracing  likeness  amidst  diversity. 
We  identify  a  common  colour  through  all  varieties  of  objects, 
large,  small,  round,  square,  straight,  crooked,  here  and  there 
and  everywhere.  Thus  it  is  that  we  have  in  our  mind  a 
class-notion  for  every  colour — a  common  impression  of  white, 
red,  or  blue,  obtained  from  many  diverse  objects.  Accord- 
ing to  our  susceptibility  to  colour,  is  the  number,  the  depth, 
and  the  permanence  of  these  common  effects  ;  in  other 
words,  the  distinct  shades  of  colour  stored  in  our  recollec- 
tion. The  work  begun  by  Discrimination  is  completed  by 
Agreement ;  both  functions  concurring  to  form  abiding  im- 
pressions of  colours.  We  identify  every  various  shade  in  the 
midst  of  diversities  of  material,  form,  size,  and  surroundings. 

The  identification  and  generalization  oi forms,  in  the  midst 
of  every  possible  difference  in  colour  and  dimensions,  opens 
up  another  vein  of  illustration.  We  identify  a  circular  out- 
line in  some  bodies  ;  the  oval  shape  in  others ;  there  is  an 
infinity  of  classes  determined  by  form,  including  not  merely 
the  regular  figures  of  Geometry,  but  all  the  recurring  shapes 
in  nature  and  art — egg-shaped,  heart-shaped,  pear-shaped, 
vase-shaped,  cup-shaped,  lanceolate,  etc.,  etc.  These  com- 
parisons arise  out  of  identity  in  the  attribute  of  form,  seen 
through  diversity  in  all  other  respects.  Most  of  the  identi- 
fications are  sufficiently  easy  to  strike  any  observer  ;  while 
instances  occasionally  arise  where  only  a  certain  number 
of  minds  are  struck  with  the  likeness,  or  experience  the  re- 
vival of  the  old  upon  the  new.  Thus,  in  the  descriptions  of 
botany,  the  shapes  of  leaf  and  flower  are  often  represented 
by  comparisons  that  are  far  from  apparent  to  an  ordinary 
observer,  demanding  the  familiarized  perception  of  the  bota- 
nist. In  anatomical  descriptions,  there  is,  not  unfrequently, 
an  analogous  want  of  obvious  resemblance. 

The  case  of  mathematical  forms  and  artificial  diagrams 


FORMS    IDENTIFIED.  511 

is  both  peculiar  and  interesting ;  but  the  important  strokes 
of  likeness  in  diversity  that  occur  in  science,  are  rather  more 
complicated  than  the  examples  falling  properly  under  our 
present  head.  The  generalization  of  the  forms  themselves 
— of  triangle,  square,  parallelogram,  ellipse,  etc. — through 
differences  of  subject,  is  all  that  we  can  quote  as  regards 
tracing  similarity  among  our  sensations  of  sight.  And  we 
may  remark  here,  as  on  a  former  occasion,  that  a  strong 
sensitiveness  to  the  other  properties  of  things, — that  is,  to 
their  colours,  dimensions,  material,  uses,  influences  on  the 
feelings,  etc., — is  an  obstruction  to  the  process  of  identifying 
the  mathematical  form.  A  burning  volcano  suggests  a  com- 
parison, not  with  the  diagrams  of  the  cone  in  a  book  of 
Geometry,  but  with  images  of  conflagration  and  explosive 
energy. 

Of  forms  not  mathematical,  we  have  the  alphabet  and 
the  other  artificial  signs  and  symbols,  used  both  in  business 
operations  and  in  science.  In  deciphering  bad  handwriting, 
there  is  scope  for  identifying  sameness  in  diversity.  This 
is  like  the  case  of  obscure  articulation,  discussed  under 
hearing.  A  strong  sense  of  the  points  that  make  the 
characteristic  difference  of  each  letter,  and  an  obtuseness  to 
all  the  unmeaning  flourishes,  are  the  qualities  of  a  good 
deciphering  head.  In  proportion  as  a  reader  is  carried 
away  by  ornamental  shapes,  his  power  of  making  out  the 
meaning  is  impaired.  This  is  the  exact  parallel  of  what 
was  previously  said  respecting  the  effects  of  over-sensibility 
to  oratorical  cadence. 

The  important  case  of  the  revival  of  Language,  already 
brought  up,  under  both  articulate  action  and  the  sense  of 
hearing,  comes  in  here  also,  inasmuch  as  written  language 
appeals  to  the  eye,  and  is  rendered  mentally  coherent  in  the 
shape  of  impressions  of  sight.  What  we  have  said  on  the 
resuscitation  of  past  addresses  and  sayings,  through  listen- 
ing to  some  one  speaking,  applies  to  the  reader  of  books. 
Forms  of  language  and  phrases  affecting  the  eye,  recall 
their  similars  from  the  past,  and  break  through  a  greater  or 


512  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

less  amount  of  unlikeness,  so  as  to  make  present  at  the 
same  time  matters  written  at  different  places  and  occasions. 
An  eye  very  much  arrested  and  impressed  with  language  is, 
to  that  degree,  prone  to  such  revivals  ;  but,  according  as  the 
written  symbols  are  regarded  purely  as  a  medium  for  con- 
veying ideas  or  information,  there  is  a  restraint  on  the 
tendency  to  mere  symbolical  identification.  We  have  here, 
as  formerly,  occasion  to  note  the  verbal  aptitude  of  the 
mind,  in  contrast  to  the  hold  taken  of  the  things  that 
are  the  subject-matter  of  language,  whatever  those  may 
happen  to  be, — whether  science,  history,  poetry,  business 
transactions,  or  any  other.  In  the  verbal  mind,  as  a  whole, 
we  can  remark  the  following  peculiarities, — 1st,  The  physical 
power  of  articulation  well  developed  :  this  is  shown  in  the 
easy  acquirement  of  all  the  positions  of  the  voice  and  mouth 
requisite  for  speech.  2nd,  A  good  articulate  ear,  as  proved 
by  the  test  of  discrimination.  3rd,  An  eye  for  arbitrary 
visible  forms,  as  in  alphabetical  or  written  composition. 
4th,  General  Eetentiveness,  or  power  of  contiguous  adhesion 
on  the  whole.  An  acquisition  so  multitudinous  cannot 
prosper  unless  the  general  power  is  well  developed.  5th, 
A  certain  enjoyment  of  the  exercises  of  speaking,  hearing, 
and  reading,  apart  from  the  further  ends  served  by  these  : 
this  circumstance  inspires  and  sustains  the  exercise  of  those 
lingual  functions.  To  these  positive  peculiarities,  may  be 
added  a  negative  aid, — namely,  comparative  indifference  or 
insensibility  to  subject-matter.  This  is  the  only  thing 
wanted  to  enable  the  Faculty  of  Language  to  run  riot,  as 
we  occasionally  find  it  in  our  experience  of  men  and  women. 
The  artistic  forms  are  a  class  distinct  from  both  the 
mathematical  and  the  symbolical.  In  them,  the  identity  is 
partly  in  the  literal  outline,  as  traced  upon  the  eye,  and 
partly  in  the  effect  of  it  on  the  mind,  as  an  object  of  beauty 
or  grace.  The  last  requisite,  being  the  essential  feature, 
must  rule  the  mind  in  summoning  resemblances  from  the 
past.  Thus,  in  the  drapery  of  a  statue,  we  identify  some 
effect  that  we  have  formerly  been  impressed  with,  and  the 


SCENES    OF   NATURE    IDENTIFIED.  513 

stroke  of  similarity  brings  up  the  former  objects  to  the  re- 
collection :  on  which  we  find  that  there  is  by  no  means  a 
literal  coincidence  of  lines,  and  curves,  and  folds ;  but  the 
aesthetic  similarity  has  broken  through  these  and  other 
differences,  and  has  reproduced  an  instructive  arra}^  of 
artistic  parallels.  A  deep  feeling  of  literal  or  mathematical 
forms  would  be  hostile  to  the  aims  of  the  artist. 

The  identification  of  one  Scene  of  Nature  with  another 
may  present  all  degrees  of  difficulty,  according  to  the  pre- 
dominance of  agreements  or  of  difference,  and  according  to 
the  tendency  of  the  mind  to  be  impressed  with  the  one  or 
the  other.  If  the  sameness  is  in  form  and  outline — in  the 
arrangements  of  mountain,  valley,  and  river, — the  reviving 
stroke  of  similarity  turns  on  the  attraction  of  the  mind  for 
unsjrmmetrical  shapes  and  groupings — one  of  the  features  in 
the  catholic  susceptibility  of  the  naturalist's  mind.  If  the 
resemblance  to  certain  other  scenes  lies  in  richness,  massive- 
ness  of  colouring,  and  strength  of  contrasts,  the  chord  to  be 
struck  is  of  a  different  kind  ;  and  such  scenes  will  be  revived 
in  a  mind  alive  to  these  effects,  notwithstanding,  perhaps, 
very  great  differences  in  the  groupings,  or  formal  arrange- 
ments of  the  component  parts. 

The  same  observations  are  applicable  to  any  other  mixed 
objects  of  sight  or  spectacle.  When  one  dress  or  uniform 
recalls  others ;  when  the  mise  en  scene  of  a  dramatic  repre- 
sentation suggests  parallels  from  our  former  experience  in 
those  things  ;  when  one  face  recalls  another  by  similarity ;  or 
even  when  a  picture  revives  the  original,* — in  all  such  cases, 
the  interest,  for  our  present  theme,  lies  in  remarking  what 
are  the  agreeing  particulars,  and  what  are  the  points  of  dis- 
cord ;  whence  we  can  assign  the  quality  of  mind  that  will 
experience  the  recall  upon  any  given  attribute. 

The  General  power  of  Similarity  would  operate  alike  on 

*  According  to  Sir  Johu  Lubbock,  savages  are  found  unable  to  identify  a 
picture  with  the  original.  This  inability  could  not  hold  universally,  but  would 
depend  upon  the  circumstances.  Even  animals,  as  the  dog,  occasionally  ex- 
emplify the  power. 

33 


514  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILAEITY. 

all  kinds  of  forms,  and  on  all  varieties  of  objects  ;  reviving 
with  equal  readiness,  the  similar  in  colour  and  in  shape.  But 
this  general  power  is  modified  by  the  acuteness  of  the  sense, 
as  well  as  by  special  education,  which  deepens  the  hold  that 
we  have  of  some  one  class  of  impressions,  and  makes  us  all 
the  more  ready  to  fall  into  that  particular  set.  Hence,  it 
never  happens  that  any  individual  is  equally  prone  to  restore 
likeness  in  colour,  in  geometrical  form,  in  cypher  and  symbol, 
and  in  aesthetic  effect. 

The  last  class  of  objects  coming  under  sensations  of  Sight 
are  visible  movements.  Among  those  agreeing  in  one  or  more 
points,  classes  are  made  up,  and  names  given  indicating  the 
agreement.  The  flight  of  projectiles,  with  considerable 
disparity,  has  a  common  character.  In  like  manner,  we  have 
circular  movements,  elliptic  movements,  rectilineal  move- 
ments, uniform  movements,  accelerated  movements,  rotation 
on  an  axle,  pendulums,  waves,  zig-zag  movements,  waterfalls, 
explosions,  etc.  Under  all  these,  we  may  have  great  diver- 
sity in  the  range  and  the  speed,  as  well  as  in  the  thing 
moved.  The  movements  of  animals  afford  many  other 
varieties :  in  quadrupeds,  the  walk,  trot,  canter,  gallop, 
shamble  ;  in  birds,  numerous  characteristic  modes  of  flight ; 
the  darting  of  the  bat,  the  frog's  leap,  the  serpent's  undulation, 
the  crawl  of  the  sluggish  snail.  By  the  stroke  of  Similarity, 
we  bring  together  in  classes  a  great  many  instances  isolated 
in  their  occurrence,  and  keep  hold  of  them  by  class-names. 
We  thus  generalize  the  grand  varieties  of  swimming,  flying, 
two-footed  locomotion,  etc.  ;  and,  within  each  of  these,  we 
have  a  number  of  minor  classes  formed  on  still  closer 
likenesses.  In  the  flexible  and  various  actions  of  a  human 
being,  we  have  characteristic  types  of  movement  and  display. 
The  gait  in  walking,  the  action  in  speaking,  the  mode  of 
performing  any  work  or  operation,  the  movements  on  the 
stage, — are  so  many  objects  that  excite  our  notice,  and  sink 
into  our  minds  as  permanent  recollections.  The  collective 
movements  of  multitudes,  either  in  orderly  array  and  disci- 
plined precision,  or  in  inorganic  tumult  and  confusion,  impress 


VISIBLE    MOVEMENTS.  515 

themselves  upon  the  view,  and  spring  up  as  memories  in 
after  times.  The  moving  life,  over  the  face  of  the  globe,  and 
in  the  habitations  of  men,  is  more  interesting  to  us  than  the 
still  life  ;  it  contains  more  matter  of  emotion  and  excitement, 
and  is,  consequently,  more  dwelt  upon,  both  in  present  reality 
and  in  idea. 

Here,  therefore,  the  force  of  similarity  has  a  wide  arena 
to  perform  in.  The  recurrence  of  sameness  in  the  midst  of 
greater  or  less  diversity  in  all  these  various  movements, 
leads  to  identification  more  or  less  easy.  We  identify  a 
style  of  acting  on  the  stage,  a  dance,  a  gait,  although  the 
circumstances  are  very  different  from  the  examples  lying  in 
the  memory.  If  the  agreement  is  not  literal,  but  in  a  certain 
general  spirit  and  effect,  a  strong  sense  of  the  literal  will  be 
a  bar  to  the  recovery  of  the  resembling  cases  in  the  past. 
If  we  are  very  sensitive  to  the  stirring  effects  of  movement 
in  general,  we  are  not  so  likely  to  identify  the  special  mode. 
Movements  may  be  divided  in  a  manner  parallel  to  the 
threefold  division  of  forms ;  mathematical  or  regular  move- 
ments, as  rectilinear,  circular,  elliptical,  etc.,  comprising  all 
the  continuous  movements  of  machinery,  and  all  movements 
that  can  be  numerically  calculated  or  geometrically  traced ; 
symholical  movements,  or  those  used  for  arbitrary  signs,  such 
as  the  gesticulation  accompanying  directions,  commands, 
instruction,  and  the  like,  telegraphic  signals,  the  alphabet  of 
the  deaf  and  dumb,  the  characteristic  gait  and  movements 
whereby  we  discriminate  persons  and  animals  ;  lastly,  ctistlietic 
movements,  or  all  those  that  touch  the  sense  of  beauty  and 
the  interesting  emotions.  Different  minds  are  variously 
susceptible  to  these  three  kinds,  and  identify  one  sort  by 
preference  over  the  others.  The  aesthetic  sense  leads  to  a 
revival  on  that  point  of  resemblance,  and  obstructs  the  dis- 
position to  classify  movements  according  to  their  mathe- 
matical character,  or  their  arbitrary  meaning.  The  most 
literal  and  disinterested  susceptibility  is  that  manifested  to 
the  symbolical  and  arbitrary,  where  neither  calculable  regu- 
larity nor  artistic  beauty  imparts  any  attractions.    The  signals 


516  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

of  a  telegraph,  the  motions  of  a  fugleman,  the  signs  used  in 
converse  with  the  deaf,  may  be  ranked  with  cyphers  and 
alphabetic  letters :  they  give  scope  for  pure  intellectual 
identity  and  discrimination  ;  they  require  to  be  closely 
observed  and  literally  compared  with  those  previously 
known ;  the  differences  are  arbitrary,  and  so  are  the  agree- 
ments. Their  easy  recognition  further  depends  on  a  good 
adhesiveness  for  visible  forms,  and  on  the  absence  of  emo- 
tional preferences. 

22.  There  is  some  interest  attaching  to  the  attributes 
common  to  Sensations  of  Different  Senses.  Impressions, 
reaching  the  mind  through  different  avenues  of  sense,  are 
yet  found  to  have  a  sameness  in  the  mental  feeling  or  the 
emotion,  this  sameness  being  necessarily  accompanied  with 
the  difference  due  to  the  diverse  entries  whereby  they  reach 
•the  brain.  For  example,  many  tastes  and  smells  have  the 
character  that  we  call  sweet ;  but  there  are  also  effects  on 
the  ear,  and  on  the  eye,  with  so  much  of  the  same  character, 
that  we  apply  to  them  the  same  epithet.  So,  the  character 
of  'pungency'  is  common  to  sensations  of  all  the  senses :  under 
taste,  we  have  it  in  peppered  meats  ;  in  smell,  we  have  sal 
volatile;  in  touch,  a  scalding  warmth;  in  hearing,  drum  and 
fife  music ;  in  sight,  intense  illumination.  The  amount  of 
sameness  in  these  various  sensations  is  such  that  one  often 
recalls  the  others.  The  identity  has  long  since  been  struck 
in  such  instances  ;  and  is  clenched  and  handed  down  by  the 
use  of  a  common  term,  as  in  the  above  case  of  '  sweetness  '. 
The  opposite  quality, '  bitter,'  primarily  applied  to  the  sense  of 
taste,  has  been  extended  to  the  emotions, — as  when  we  speak 
of  the  bitterness  of  disappointment  or  of  remorse.  The  qua- 
lity that  we  call  '  delicate  '  has  original  reference  to  Touch  ; 
but,  through  similarity,  it  is  looked  upon  as  a  mode  of  sen- 
sation in  all  the  other  senses.  Comparisons  are  instituted 
between  sights  and  sounds  ;  and  the  phraseology  of  the  two 
arts — music  and  painting — is  made  interchangeable.  A  pic- 
ture is  said  to  have  a  certain  tone  ;  and  a  piece  of  music  is, 
by  a  less  common  figure,  spoken  of  as  richly  coloured.     The 


SENSATIONS    OF   DIFFERENT    SENSES   IDENTIFIED.       517 

feeling  of  'warmth '  is  identified  as  belonging  to  effects  that 
have  no  connexion  with  heat :  we  hear  of  warm  colom's,  and 
warm  affections.  Notwithstanding  the  great  disparity  there' 
is  between  an  actual  sensation  of  heat,  and  a  colour  or  a 
tender  affection,  there  is  a  degree  of  sameness  sufficient  to 
break  through  the  discordance  in  other  respects,  and  to  cause 
the  stroke  of  identification.  The  designation  of  one  class 
of  sensations  as  pains,  and  of  another  as  pleasures,  is  also 
the  identifying  of  a  common  character  in  the  midst  of  great 
diversity ;  but  these  qualities  are  usually  so  well  marked  in 
the  mind,  being,  in  fact,  the  prime  movers  of  our  actions,  that 
no  amount  of  diversity  can  prevent  us  from  recognizing 
either  the  one  or  the  other — indeed,  a  pain  not  identified  as 
such,  that  is,  not  recalling  our  former  painful  experiences, 
would  really  be  no  pain. 

These  generalizations  among  the  feelings  of  our  different 
senses  teach  us  the  existence  of  common  mental  effects 
arising  out  of  very  different  outw^ard  causes,  and  are,  in  fact, 
so  many  discoveries  regarding  our  mental  nature.  They  also 
serve  as  illustrations,  one  of  another,  in  our  descriptions  of 
feelings,  whether  in  the  common  conversation  of  society,  in 
the  higher  sphere  of  poetic  delineation,  or  for  the  purposes  of 
science,  as  in  the  delineations  of  the  Senses  attempted  to  be 
given  in  this  work.  If  we  are  endeavouring  to  convey  to 
others  some  state  of  feeling  such  as  they  have  not  expe- 
rienced, we  bring  before  their  view  an  identical  or  parallel 
state  that  they  have  experienced  ;  and,  therefore,  we  require 
to  possess,  through  the  identifying  action  of  similarity,  a 
store  of  such  hkenesses.  This  is  a  frequently  occurring 
attempt  in  poetr}^ — one  of  whose  objects  it  is  to  produce 
new  emotions  in  the  minds  of  men.  The  illustration  of 
the  feeling  roused  in  the  mind  of  the  Duke,  in  Ticelfth 
Night,  by  music  is  effected  by  a  complicated  reference  to 
the  other  senses : — 

0,  it  came  o'er  my  ear  like  the  sweet  south, 
That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 
Stealing,  and  giving  odour. 


518  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

CONTIGUOUS  AGGREGATES.— CONJUNCTIONS. 

23.  Under  Contiguity,  we  had  to  notice  the  aggregation 
of  impressions  derived  from  many  different  sources,  through 
the  circumstance  of  their  proximity,  or  their  striking  the 
mind  at  the  same  time.  I  exempHfied  the  association  of 
Feehngs  of  Movement  and  Sensations  with  one  another,  in 
the  notions  that  external  objects  create  within  us, — as  in  the 
complex  idea  of  an  apple,  or  a  ring.  I  remarked,  further, 
that,  in  many  objects,  the  mental  impression  overflows  the 
immediate  sensible  impression — as  in  the  whole  class  of 
Tools,  with  which  are  associated  iises ;  that  is,  actions  and 
reactions  upon  other  bodies.  In  the  more  profound  know- 
ledge of  natural  things  furnished  by  experimental  science, 
there  are  similar  aggregates  of  associated  impressions  ;  as 
the  chemist's  idea  of  sulphur. 

Now,  wherever  there  is  much  variety  or  complicacy  in 
the  impressions  of  outward  things,  there  is  room  for  the 
detection  of  likenesses  in  the  midst  of  diversity.  An  object 
acts  upon  four  different  senses  :  the  effect  on  one  sense  is 
identical  with  an  effect  formerly  felt ;  but  the  collateral  effects 
on  the  three  other  senses  are  quite  different.  I  take  in  my 
hand  a  ball  of  glass  :  to  the  touch,  it  is  the  same  as  a  ball  of 
polished  stone,  and  might  recall  the  remembrance  of  such  a 
ball  if  I  had  chanced  to  have  been  previously  cognizant  of 
one ;  but,  when  I  look  at  it,  and  hear  the  ring  that  it  makes 
on  being  struck,  the  disparity  is  notable  in  both  points,  and 
would  probably  prevent  my  getting  upon  the  old  track  of  the 
marble  specimen.  The  most  impressive  feature  of  the  object 
being  its  brilliant  effect  on  the  eye,  this  would  have  every 
chance  to  rule  the  identifying  operation,  and  prevent  my 
recalling  an  object  entirely  destitute  of  this  peculiarity. 
There  might,  however,  be  circumstances  to  carry  my  attention 
off  from  this  effect  ;  in  which  case  the  round  smooth  touch 
might  start  forth  to  the  dignity  of  striking  the  recall. 

In  the  popular  classifications  made  among  familiar  objects, 
the  identifying  process  is  seen  habitually  at  work.     Looking 


NATURAL    HISTORY   CLASSIFICATIONS.  519 

out  on  the  landscape,  we  observe  an  elevation  of  the  ground, 
or  an  ascent  from  the  ordinary  level  to  a  high  point  or 
peak  ;  we  note  this  appearance  repeated  under  a  great  variety 
of  shapes,  and  in  different  situations  ;  we  are  not  prevented 
by  the  disparity  from  recognizing  the  sameness  ;  and  every 
new  instance,  by  similarity,  reinstates  the  old.  We  thus 
bring  together  in  the  mind  an  array  of  objects  widely  scat- 
tered in  nature  ;  we  give  them  a  common  name,  mountain  ; 
we  predicate  of  each  new  example  the  peculiarities  that  we 
have  found  attaching  to  the  previous  examples  ;  we  then 
know,  without  a  trial,  that  if  we  were  to  ascend  any  one, 
we  should  experience  a  wide  prospect,  a  diminishing  tem- 
perature, and  an  altered  vegetation. 

In  the  same  way,  and  with  similar  consequences,  do  we 
classify  numerous  other  groups  of  natural  objects — seas, 
lakes,  rivers,  forests,  cultivated  fields,  quadrupeds,  birds, 
fishes,  etc.  Natural  History  improves  upon  the  popular 
classifications  :  it  both  searches  the  globe  for  materials,  and 
subjects  them  to  careful  comparison.  The  progress  of  Natural 
History  knowledge  has  been  partly  in  the  number  of  objects 
discovered,  but  partly  also  in  the  transition  from  superficial 
to  deep  identities.  In  the  time  of  Aristotle,  animals  were 
classified  according  to  the  element  they  inhabited — one  class 
dwelling  on  the  land,  another  in  the  sea,  a  third  in  the  air  ; 
this  point  of  identity  being  so  prominent  and  forcible  that  it 
arrested  every  one's  attention.  Each  of  these  classes  could 
be  subdivided  by  forming  minor  groups  on  still  closer  re- 
semblances. Thus,  we  should  have,  on  the  Earth,  bipeds, 
quadrupeds,  reptiles,  etc.  ;  each  of  these  groups  being  the 
assemblage  of  a  number  of  individuals  recalled  to  the  view 
by  special  identities.  So,  in  the  Air,  the  insect  multitude 
would  be  readily  marked  off  from  the  feathered  tribes.  It 
was  not  difficult  to  form  classes  such  as  these.  But  more 
profound  inquiry  has  developed  features  of  identification  carry- 
ing with  them  a  greater  amount  of  agreement,  and  present- 
ing points  of  more  value  as  knowledge,  than  in  those  ancient 
groupings.    Birds  are  now  identified,  not  by  the  circumstance 


520  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

of  their  flying  in  the  air,  but  on  the  fact  of  their  bringing 
forth  their  young  in  the  egg,  by  their  feathered  structure, 
their  warm-blooded  circulation.  Instead  of  the  old  group 
of  quadrupeds,  or  animals  walking  on  all  fours,  we  have  the 
class  7}ia7nmalia  (which  suckle  their  young),  including  both 
man  and  quadrupeds,  and  certain  animals  of  the  sea  and 
the  air. 

24.  The  operation  of  Similarity  in  such  classifyings  and 
re-classifyings  as  the  above,  has  a  very  high  interest ;  it  sets 
forth  the  workings  of  genius,  and  the  history  of  science,  and 
of  the  human  mind.  The  reader  has  not  as  yet  been  pre- 
pared for  fully  carrying  out  this  explanation.  It  is  necessary, 
first,  to  dwell  upon  less  complicated  instances.  I  might  follow 
the  order  adopted  in  developing  the  Law  of  Contiguity,  and 
specify  instances  of  the  aggregation  of  impressions  of  the 
various  senses — the  Organic  sensibility  with  Taste,  Smell, 
Touch,  Hearing,  or  Sight ;  and  it  would  be  easy  to  lay  hold 
of  many  cases  of  identity  in  diversity  among  such  aggregates. 
Things  affecting  the  palate  alike  may  yet  be  very  different 
to  the  touch  and  the  sight,  as  m  the  different  varieties  of 
the  same  alimentary  substances, — bread,  butter,  flesh,  etc. 
Objects  that  are  identical  to  the  eye  may  yet  differ  to  the 
taste  and  the  smell, — as  water,  alcohol,  and  white  vinegar. 
We  make  a  class  founded  on  the  common  peculiarity,  and 
give  a  designation  implying  that,  and  no  more.  If,  however, 
the  taste  or  smell  is  the  point  we  are  bent  on  studying,  we  do 
not  pass  from  vinegar  to  water,  but  to  other  sour  bodies,  as 
the  common  acids. 

25.  Without  pursuing  farther  the  instances  of  aggregate 
impressions  on  a  plurality  of  senses,  let  us,  next,  advert  to 
the  compounds  of  Sense  and  Association.  Tools,  implements, 
machinery,  and  all  objects  of  practical  utility,  make  a  class 
that  may  stand  first  in  exemplifying  this  aggregation.  A 
knife,  for  example,  is  not  simply  an  object  of  the  senses  ;  it 
is  this  and  something  more.  Along  with  the  sensation  that 
it  produces  on  the  touch  and  the  sight,  there  is  an  associated 
impression  of  its  use,  or  of  the  cutting  operation  :  and  we 


IDENTIFICATION    OF   THINGS    ON    COMMUNITY   OF   USE.     521 

are  almost  unable  to  regard  it  apart  from  this  other  circum- 
stance. The  appearance  of  a  knife  lying  on  the  table  is  not 
the  whole  knife  ;  the  appearance  of  it  in  the  hand  while  we 
feel  its  form  and  dimensions,  coupling  sight  and  touch,  is  not 
the  whole  knife  :  they  are  at  best  but  signs  or  suggestive 
particulars  that  revive  in  the  mind,  by  association,  the  full 
notion  of  the  object.  Here,  therefore,  we  have  a  complication 
of  sense  and  intellect, — of  impressions  made  bj^  an  actual 
object,  with  ideal  or  associated  impressions,  arising  from 
previous  junctures  when  we  have  seen  it  put  to  its  use. 
In  this  association  of  sensible  appearance  with  use, — the 
last  being  only  occasionally  seen  in  the  reality,  and,  there- 
fore, for  the  most  part  an  idea,  or  a  potentiality, — we  have 
abundant  room  for  the  exercise  of  tracing  likeness  yoked 
with  unlikeness.  We  may  have  similarity  in  form  with 
diversity  of  use,  and  similarity  of  use  with  diversity  of  form. 
A  rope  suggests  other  ropes  and  cords,  if  we  look  to  the 
appearance ;  but,  looking  to  the  use,  it  may  suggest  an  iron 
cable,  a  wooden  prop,  an  iron  girding,  a  leather  band,  or 
bevelled  gear.  In  spite  of  diversity  of  appearance,  the 
suggestion  turns  on  what  answers  a  common  end.  If  we  are 
very  much  attracted  by  sensible  appearances,  there  will  be 
the  more  dithculty  in  recalling  things  that  agree  only  in  the 
use ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  profoundly  sensitive  to  the 
one  point  of  practical  efficiency  as  a  tool,  the  peculiarities  not 
essential  to  this  will  be  little  noticed,  and  we  shall  be  ever 
ready  to  revive  past  objects  corresponding  in  use  to  some  one 
present,  although  diverse  in  all  other  circumstances.  We 
become  oblivious  to  the  difference  between  a  horse,  a  steam- 
engine,  and  a  waterfall,  when  our  minds  are  engrossed  with 
the  one  circumstance  of  moving  power.  The  diversity  in 
these  had,  no  doubt,  for  a  long  time  the  effect  of  keeping 
back  their  first  identification  ;  and  to  obtuse  intellects,  this 
identification  might  have  been  for  ever  impossible.  A  strong 
concentration  of  mind  upon  the  single  peculiarity  of  mechan- 
ical force,  and  a  degree  of  indifference  to  the  general  aspect 
of  the  things  themselves,  must  conspire  with  the  intellectual 


52'2  AGEEEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILAEITY. 

energy  of  resuscitation  by  similars,  in  order  to  summon 
together  in  the  view  three  structures  so  different.  We  can 
see,  by  an  instance  like  this,  how  new  adaptations  of  existing 
machinery  might  arise  in  the  mind  of  a  mechanical  inventor. 
When  it  first  occurred  to  a  reflecting  mind  that  moving  water 
had  a  property  identical  with  human  or  brute  force, — namely, 
the  property  of  setting  other  masses  in  motion,  overcoming 
inertia  and  resistance, — when  the  sight  of  the  stream  sug- 
gested, through  this  point  of  likeness,  the  power  of  the  animal, 
— anew  addition  was  made  to  the  class  of  prime  movers,  and, 
when  circumstances  permitted,  this  power  could  become  a 
substitute  for  the  others.  It  may  seem  to  the  modern  under- 
standmg,  familiar  with  water  wheels  and  drifting  rafts,  that 
the  similarity  here  was  an  extremely  obvious  one.  But  if  we 
put  ourselves  back  into  an  early  state  of  mind,  when  running 
water  affected  the  mind  by  its  brilliancy,  its  roar,  and  irregular 
devastation,  we  may  easily  suppose  that  to  identify  this  with 
animal  muscular  energy  was  by  no  means  an  obvious  thing. 
Doubtless,  when  a  mind  arose  less  sensible  by  natural  consti- 
tution to  the  superficial  aspects  of  things,  and  having  withal 
a  great  stretch  of  identifying  intellect,  such  a  comparison 
would  then  be  possible.  We  may  pursue  the  same  example 
one  stage  farther,  and  come  to  the  discovery  of  steam  power, 
or  the  identification  of  expanding  vapour  with  the  previously 
known  sources  of  mechanical  force.  To  the  common  eye,  for 
ages,  vapour  presented  itself  as  clouds  in  the  sky  ;  or  as  a 
hissing  noise  at  the  spout  of  a  kettle,  with  the  formation 
of  a  foggy  curling  cloud  at  a  few  inches'  distance.  The 
forcing  up  of  the  lid  of  a  kettle  may  also  have  been  occa- 
sionally observed.  But  how  long  was  it  ere  any  one  was 
struck  with  the  parallelism  of  this  appearance  with  a  blast 
of  wind,  a  rush  of  water,  or  an  exertion  of  animal  muscle  ? 
The  discordance  was  too  great  to  be  broken  through  by  such 
a  faint  and  limited  amount  of  likeness.  In  one  mind,  how- 
ever, the  identification  did  take  place,  and  was  followed  out 
into  its  consequences.  The  likeness  had  occurred  to  other 
minds   previously,  but    not   with    the    same  results.     Such 


DISCOVERY   OF   THE    STEAM-ENGINE.  523 

minds  must  have  been  in  some  way  or  other  distinguished 
above  the  miUions  of  mankind  ;  and  we  are  now  endeavouring 
to  give  some  explanation  of  their  superiority.  The  intel- 
lectual character  of  AVatt  contained  all  the  elements  pre- 
paratory to  a  great  stroke  of  similarity  in  such  a  case — a 
high  susceptibility,  both  by  nature  and  by  education,  to  the 
mechanical  properties  of  bodies  ;  ample  previous  knowledge 
or  familiarity ;  and  indifference  to  the  superficial  and  sensa- 
tional effects  of  things.  It  is  not  only  possible,  however, 
but  exceedingly  probable,  that  many  men  possessed  all  these 
accomplishments :  they  are  of  a  kind  not  transcending  common 
abilities.  They  would,  in  some  degree,  attach  to  a  mechani- 
cal education  almost  as  a  matter  of  course.  That  the 
discovery  was  not  sooner  made,  supposes  that  something 
further,  and  not  of  common  occurrence,  was  necessary  ;  and 
this  additional  endowment  appears  to  be  the  identifying  power 
of  Similarity  in  general — the  tendency  to  detect  likeness 
in  the  midst  of  disparity  and  disguise.  This  supposition 
accounts  for  the  fact ;  and  is  consistent  with  the  known 
intellectual  character  of  the  inventor  of  the  steam-engine. 
26.  Let  us,  next,  consider  Natural  Objects,  as  seen  by  the 
eye  of  the  naturalist,  with  a  view  to  catalogue  and  exhaust 
all  their  properties  and  relations.  The  Mineral,  Vegetable, 
and  Animal  Kingdoms,  as  objects  of  intellectual  curiosity 
and  rational  explanation,  present,  in  each  of  their  individual 
specimens,  that  mixture  of  the  sensible  present  with  the 
associated  absent,  already  exemplified  in  the  class  of  tools 
or  machinery.  Each  mineral,  plant,  or  animal,  is  a  bundle 
of  impressions,  of  which  the  whole  cannot  be  made  present 
to  the  sense  at  one  time  ;  there  being  a  series  of  actions  upon 
other  individuals  to  be  included  in  the  conception,  and  these 
usually  held  together  with  the  assistance  of  language.  The 
complication  thus  presented  is  a  degree  beyond  the  pre- 
ceding group.  In  Mineral  bodies,  we  have  the  concurrence 
of  many  attributes  in  each  individual — some  sensible,  others 
experimental ;  and  it  is  under  the  estranging  influence  of 
much  diversity  that  all  the  classes  have  been  formed.     Thus, 


524  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

to  take  the  Metals.     Some  of  these  have  a  very  large  extent 
of  sameness— as  tin,  zinc,  silver,  and  lead  ;  so,  there  is  a  close 
resemblance   between   gold  and   copper,  between   iron    and 
manganese.     But  when  we  come  to  mercury,  a  striking  point 
of  diversity  starts  forth  ;  namely,  the  liquid  form.     The  in- 
fluence of  this  diversity,  leading  the  mind  away  to  water  and 
liquids  of  every  kind,  would  prevent  the  suggestion  of  metals 
to  the  mind,  but  for  the  strong  effect  of  the  two  qualities — 
lustre  and  weight  or  specific  gravity, — which,  acting  by  them- 
selves, could  suggest  by  similarity  only  such  substances  as 
silver,  lead,  tin,  etc.     This  concurrence  of  two  striking  points 
of  sameness,  overpowers  the  diverting  influence  of  the  liquid 
state,  and  brings  mercury  to  the  mind's  eye,  side  by  side 
with  the  metals.     But  these  bodies  have  been  identified  with 
others  in  the  midst  of  still  greater  discordance.     When  Sir 
Humphrey   Davy   suggested   that    metallic    substances    are 
locked  up  in  soda,  potash,  and  lime,  the  identification  in  his 
mind  proceeded  upon  resemblances  purely  intellectual ;  that 
is  to  say,  making  no  appeal  to  the  senses,  but  arrived  at 
through  indirect  signs,  and  represented  to  the  mind  by  tech- 
nical symbols.     He  found  a  class  of  bodies  that  had  a  close 
agreement  with  one  another,  and  were  termed  salts ;  he  saw 
that  some  of  these  consisted  of  an  acid  and  the  oxide  of  a 
metal — as  sulphate  of  iron,  nitrate  of  silver  ;  others  consisted 
of  an  acid  and  a  substance  called  an  alkali — as  sulphate  of 
soda,  nitrate  of  potash.    Here,  there  were  a  number  of  bodies 
brought  together  in  the  mind  by  general  agreement ;  an  oxide 
of  a  metal  in  these  bodies  suggested  by  similarity  oi  function 
an  alkaline  substance,  both  having  the  property  of  neutral- 
izing an  acid  and  forming  a  salt :  it  was  impossible,  there- 
fore, not  to  class  together  in  one  group  all  substances  having 
this  property ;  which  was  done  before  the  time  of  Davy,  under 
the  name  hascs.     He,  then,  by  a  bold  venture,  asserted  that 
this  common  property  of  neutralizing  acids,  and  making  salts, 
grows  out  of  a  still  closer  identity  of  character, — namely,  a 
common  composition  ;  in  other  words,  that  the  alkalies  are 
oxides  of  inetals  too,  and  that,  therefore,  all  the  bases  contain  a 


Davy's  discovert  of  metals  in  the  alkalies.    525 

metal  and  oxygen.  On  the  suggestion  being  put  to  the  proof, 
it  was  found  to  hold  good  :  lustrous  metallic  substances  were 
actually  separated  from  soda,  potash,  and  the  others ;  and  the 
identity  made  good  to  the  sense  as  well  as  to  the  reason.  But 
to  trace  identities  of  this  nature,  a  highly  intellectual  concep- 
tion is  required  to  intervene  ;  salts  had  to  be  considered,  not 
as  appealing  to  the  touch,  the  taste,  and  the  sight,  but  as 
compounded  of  ingredients  represented  to  the  mind  by  names, 
figures,  and  symbols.  Had  copperas  been  known  only  as  it 
appears  in  a  drysalter's  store,  no  such  identifications  could 
have  grown  out  of  its  comparison  with  other  salts.  It  be- 
hoved to  be  known  as  sulphuric  acid  combined  with  oxide  of 
iron,  or  symbolically  as  S  0^-|-FeO,  in  order  that  an  analogy 
might  be  seen  between  it  and  Glauber's  salts,  similarly  repre- 
sented as  S  0^4- Soda.  The  scientific  identities  proceed  on 
scientific  conceptions, — that  is  to  say,  on  artificial  ways  of  ex- 
pressing, by  names,  numbers,  and  symbols,  the  facts  that  ex- 
periment brings  to  light.  The  same  research  led  to  a  stroke 
of  identification  that  would  have  been  utterly  impossible  to 
the  common  eye, — namely,  of  hydrogen  gas  with  the  metals, 
— a  gas  with  a  solid, — the  lightest  substance  in  nature  with 
the  heaviest.  Hydrogen  occurs  in  connexions  that  suggest  a 
metal  by  the  force  of  similarity, — as  by  its  combining  with 
oxygen,  and  entering  into  still  higher  compounds  exactly  as 
the  metals  do.  The  repugnance  between  the  physical  or 
more  sensible  properties  of  hydrogen  (gaseous  form  and 
lightness)  and  the  properties  of  the  metals,  kept  back  for  a 
time,  but  did  not  in  the  end  prevent,  au  identification  on 
the  property  of  combining  chemically  in  the  same  manner 
as  these.  And  in  the  artificial  representations  of  chemical 
formulae,  the  identity  is  such  as  to  strike  the  mind  very 
readily ;  but  this  representation  was  itself  consequent  on 
the  recognition  of  similarity  of  function  in  the  two  cases. 
An  acid  is  now  represented  chemically  in  the  same  form  as 
a  salt  ;  hydrogen  standing  in  the  acid  for  the  metal  in  the 
salt.  Sulphuric  acid  is  /TO,  S  0^,  the  sulphate  of  iron  Fe  O, 
S03. 


526  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

27.  To  pass  from  the  mineral  world  to  the  Vegetable. 
Plants  may  be  identified  on  many  different  points  ;  and  the 
same  plant  falls  into  different  groups  of  associates  according 
to  the  feature  that  predominates  in  the  mind,  and  determines 
the  stroke  of  recall.  What  in  the  end  has  turned  out  the 
most  valuable  classification,  has  often  repelled  at  the  outset  by 
obtrusive  dissimilarities.  In  the  first  Classification  of  Plants, 
the  Trees  of  the  forest  would  be  grouped  together,  owing  to 
easy  identification  through  their  prominent  and  imposing 
points  of  likeness.  The  Shrubs  would  make  another  class 
identified  by  the  same  superficial  likeness.  The  apparently 
insignificant  and  artificial  identifications  made  by  LinnEeus 
would  be  repellent  to  a  common  eye,  and  could  spring  only 
from  minute  dissection  of  the  structure,  bringing  out  features 
of  identity  hidden  in  the  heart  of  the  efflorescence.  The 
Linnaean  classification  was  properly  a  fetch  of  identity  in  the 
midst  of  the  widest  discordance ;  and  the  mental  preparation 
for  gaining  this  triumph  of  identification,  in  the  midst  of 
difficulties,  was  a  shutting  of  the  eye  to  the  bold  features 
that  held  all  other  minds  captive,  and  a  devoted  study  of 
the  minute  and  concealed  structure.  Also,  the  identifying 
reach  of  similarity  in  such  a  mind  must  have  been  of  a  high 
order,  to  produce  so  great  a  change  in  the  mode  of  looking  at 
the  whole  vegetable  world,  to  break  down  all  the  old  classi- 
fications, and  compel  the  adoption  of  others  entirely  at 
variance  with  them. 

The  vegetable  world  presents  us  with  another  example 
of  pure  attraction  of  Similarity.  The  analogy  of  the  flower 
to  the  whole  plant  first  struck  the  mind  of  the  poet  Goethe, 
and  was  considered  by  botanists  a  luminous  suggestion. 
He  saw,  in  the  arrangement  of  the  leaves  round  a  stem,  the 
analogue  of  the  circular  arrangement  of  the  petals  of  the 
flower,  notwithstanding  very  great  diversity  of  general 
appearance.  So,  in  the  leaf,  Oken  identified  the  plant. 
The  branchings  of  the  veins  of  the  leaf  are,  in  fact,  a  minia- 
ture of  the  entire  vegetable,  with  its  parent  stem,  branches, 
and  ramifications.    In  the  first  suggestion  of  these  identities, 


ANALOGIES   IN    THE    STRUCTUKE    OF   PLANTS.  527 

we  have  notable  cases  of  the  stroke  of  similarity  through 
a  dense  medium  of  diversity.  Such  identifications  (when 
proved  to  be  genuine  and  not  merely  apparent  or  fanciful), 
cast  new  lights  over  a  subject ;  simplifying  what  is  complex, 
and  giving  a  clue  to  what  seemed  a  labyrinth. 

28.  Our  next  examples  are  from  the  Animal  Kingdom. 
In  the  classification  of  animals,  we  find  the  stroke  of  identity 
falling  first  upon  one  class  of  attributes,  as  in  the  divisions 
into  quadrupeds,  birds,  and  fishes.  A  minuter  examination 
paves  the  way  for  a  deeper  resemblance :  certain  animals 
inhabiting  the  sea  are  excluded  from  the  class  of  fishes — 
as  the  whale,  seal,  and  porpoise ;  and  certain  others  that  fly 
in  the  air  (the  bats  for  example)  are  excluded  from  the  class 
of  birds.  This  new  classification,  like  the  reform  of  Linnaeus 
in  the  Vegetable  world,  proceeded  on  an  investigation  of 
structure,  and  a  disregard  of  the  startling  differences  that 
arrest  the  common  eye.  It  was  accomplished  by  the  com- 
parative anatomists  of  the  last  century,  and  is  now  fixed  for 
ever  in  the  minds  of  men,  by  the  language  expressing  the 
divisions  and  subdivisions  of  the  animal  kingdom. 

Numerous  interesting  comparisons  have  been  discovered 
between  the  different  parts  of  animals  taken  individually. 
These  have  been  termed  homologies.  One  of  the  first  sugges- 
tions is  attributed  to  the  fertile  analogical  brain  of  Oken. 
Walking  one  day  in  the  forest,  he  came  upon  the  bleached 
skull  of  a  deer.  He  took  it  up,  and  was  examining  its 
anatomical  arrangement,  when  there  flashed  upon  his  mind 
an  original  identity.  The  skull,  he  said,  was  four  vertebras ; 
in  fact,  the  head  was  merely  a  continuation  of  the  back 
bone,  but  so  expanded  and  distorted  as  to  throw  a  deep 
disguise  over  the  fundamental  sameness  of  structure.  That 
disguise  was  now  shot  through,  by  a  powerful  fetch  of 
similarity,  in  a  mind  prepared  by  previous  knowledge  for 
discovering  such  likenesses.  Oken  was  evidently  a  man 
that  sat  loose  to  the  existing  identifications  of  things.  He 
had,  moreover,  a  large  endowment  of  general  Similarity.  It 
appears,  further,  that  he  had  a  strong  belief  in  the  simplicity 


528  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

of  nature, — that  is  to  say,  in  the  recurrence,  or  repetition,  of 
the  same  structure  and  the  same  plan  of  working,  in  many- 
various  forms  and  in  the  most  widely  separated  regions. 
His  convictions  on  this  point  went  far  beyond  the  reality,  as 
we  may  see  from  his  writings ;  for,  of  the  many  hundreds 
of  analogies  that  he  sets  forth  in  his  one  work,  Physio- 
philosophy,  there  are  probably  not  twenty  that  are  sound. 
The  intellectual  force  of  similarity  in  him  was  under  no 
check  or  control.  He  never  took  any  steps  to  prove  the 
reality  of  a  supposed  identification.  The  identifying  stroke 
of  similarity,  bringing  together,  for  the  first  time,  things  that 
had  previously  been  looked  at  in  totally  diiferent  connexions, 
is  the  first  step  in  a  discovery,  but  only  the  first  step.  It 
has  to  be  followed  up  by  the  labour  of  comparing  minutely  all 
the  different  things  whose  resemblance  is  implied  in  the  iden- 
tification, and,  only  after  this  examination  is  complete,  and 
the  result  satisfactory,  is  the  discovery  realized.  Hence  the 
saying  :  '  He  discovers  that  proves  '.  Honour  belongs  to  the 
first  suggestion  of  a  discovery,  if  that  suggestion  was  the 
means  of  setting  some  one  to  work  to  verify  it  ;  but  the 
world  must  ever  look  upon  this  last  operation  as  the  crown- 
ing exploit. 

The  homologies  of  the  skeleton  imply  a  wide  range  of 
similarities,  sought  out  through  the  thickest  concealment 
of  diversity.  The  identity  of  structure  of  all  animals  of  the 
vertebrate  class, — mammalia,  birds,  reptiles,  and  fishes;  the 
correspondence  of  the  upper  arm  of  the  man,  the  fore  leg  of 
the  quadruped,  the  wing  of  the  bird,  and  the  anterior  fin  of 
the  fish, — implies  a  very  great  insight  into  structure,  and  a 
power  of  setting  aside  first  appearances.  The  resemblance 
of  the  segments  of  the  same  skeleton,  from  the  crown  of  the 
head  to  the  tip  of  the  tail,  constitutes  the  serial  homology ; 
which  is  the  working  out  of  Oken's  fetch  on  tfiie  skull  of  the 
deer.  The  discovery  of  these  homologies  represents  the 
struggles  of  the  human  intellect  with  the  perplexity  of  the 
world.  In  the  explanation  of  nature,  first  thoughts  are 
seldom  correct.    The  superficial  resemblances  bring  together 


HOMOLOGIES    OF    THE    SKELETON.  529 

things  that  have  no  deep  community  of  structure ;  and,  hence^ 
no  knowledge  is  transferred  from  one  to  another.  The  com- 
parison of  a  sahnon  with  a  seal  can  only  mislead ;  the  com- 
parison of  a  seal  with  a  whale  may  improve  our  knowledge 
of  both.  When  a  superficial  likeness  in  two  objects — a 
sameness  in  some  one  prominent  feature — is  the  sign  of  a 
deep  likeness,  or  a  sameness  in  many  other  features,  all  of 
great  importance,  we  can  apply  to  the  second  the  whole  of 
the  knowledge  we  have  obtained  of  the  first ;  that  is,  by 
studying  one  we  are  master  of  the  two,  and  thus  economize 
our  labour.  If  I  find  out  that  a  bat  is  not  a  bird,  but  one  of 
the  mammalia,  I  instantly  transfer  to  it  all  that  I  know  of 
the  common  characters  of  the  mammalia  ;  but,  if  I  identify 
a  bat  with  an  owl,  I  gain  nothing,  for  the  likeness  between 
the  two  (their  nocturnal  habits)  is  superficial  or  isolated  :  it 
does  not  imply  a  number  of  other  likenesses,  and  the  com- 
parison is,  therefore,  unprofitable.  The  progress  of  real  dis- 
covery consists  in  seizing  these  pervading  resemblances,  and 
in  passing  by  the  others.  Often  where  there  is  the  greatest 
amount  of  real  sameness,  there  is  the  least  apparent  same- 
ness ;  which  only  shows  that  the  vulgar  eye  is  satisfied  with 
a  very  superficial  glance  at  things. 

PHENOMENA  OF  SUCCESSION. 

29.  Under  Contiguity,  we  have  classified  and  illustrated 
the  different  kinds  of  succession  prevailing  around  us.  Some 
are  Cyclic  or  periodic, — as  day  and  night,  the  seasons,  the 
heavenly  appearances  generally,  the  tides,  the  winds,  the 
revolution  of  machinery,  the  routine  of  life.  Others  are 
successions  of  Evolution, — as  in  the  growth  of  living  beings, 
and  the  constructions  of  human  industry.  Many  are  charac- 
terized by  Effect,  or  the  production  of  some  telling  sensation, 
or  sudden  change, — as  a  blow,  an  explosion,  a  burst  of  music, 
a  dramatic  scene.  Apart  from  these  salient  manifestations, 
we  have  the  more  comprehensive  successions  in  scientific 
cause  and  effect.     Lastly,  History  at  large  is  a  grand  casemhle 

of  succession,  whose  aspects  are  innumerable. 

84 


530  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

The  identifications  traced  among  these  varieties  of  se- 
quence, and  held  together  by  the  use  of  language,  as  the 
common  property  of  civilized  men,  have  vastly  enlarged  the 
sum  of  human  knowledge  and  the  compass  of  human  power, 
besides  yielding  much  refined  gratification.  They  fall  under 
two  great  divisions, — the  Real  and  the  Illustrative  ;  the  one 
implying  an  identity  in  the  actual  subject  or  intrinsic  quality 
of  the  sequence,  the  other  implying  a  sameness  in  some  mode 
or  aspect  of  it.  Of  the  first  class,  are  the  scientific  and  prac- 
tical identities  ;  the  second  are  those  that  serve  as  a  medium 
either  of  intellectual  comprehension,  or  of  artistic  adorn- 
ment. When  we  term  certain  atmospheric  movements  aerial 
tides,  thereby  identifying  them  with  the  tides  of  the  ocean, 
the  comparison  is  strict  and  scientific,  for  both  phenomena 
are  caused  by  one  and  the  same  natural  power, — namely, 
gravitation ;  but,  when  we  speak  of  '  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of 
men,'  the  identity  is  not  real,  but  merely  illustrative,  through 
a  certain  similarity  of  phase  or  aspect  :  the  ebb  and  flow  of 
human  prosperity  has  no  dependence  upon  gravitation,  it 
grows  out  of  quite  another  class  of  natural  impulses. 

30.  The  illustrative  comparisons,  however,  are  not  con- 
fined to  phenomena  of  succession ;  they  occur  equally  among 
the  objects  brought  in  under  the  previous  head, — namely, 
aggregates,  conjunctions,  or  appearances  of  still  life.  On  this 
account,  I  prefer  to  treat  Illustration  as  a  separate  subject  ; 
and,  under  the  present  head,  Successions,  I  shall  merely  cite 
a  few  examples  of  the  identification  of  likenesses  considered 
as  real,  or  believed  to  be  real.  I  commence  with  sequences 
that  are  periodic  or  Cyclic.  The  revolutions  of  the  year 
are  too  much  alike  to  present  a  case  of  difficult  identifica- 
tion, on  which  alone  any  interest  hinges.  In  the  rising  and 
setting  of  the  stars,  there  is  one  point  of  similarity  that  might 
for  a  long  time  escape  observation,  in  consequence  of  accom- 
panying dissimilarities, — namely,  that,  in  the  same  place, 
the  stars  all  rise  constantly  at  the  same  angle,  the  angle  being 
the  co-latitude  of  the  place  :  at  latitude  60"  the  angle  is  30°, 
at  latitude  50°  it  is  40°.      Now,  there  are  two  disguising 


SUCCESSIONS    OF    CYCLE    IDENTIFIED.  531 

differences  in  the  rising  and  setting  of  the  various  stars  ;  one 
relating  to  the  height  they  reach  when  at  their  highest,  and 
the  other  relating  to  the  time  of  rising,  which  last  element 
differs  for  the  same  star  throughout  the  year.  It  takes  a 
steady  glance,  a  ready  appreciation  of  mathematical  elements 
(such  as  this  of  the  angle  of  rising),  and  a  considerable  reach 
of  the  identifying  faculty,  to  seize  a  community  of  this  kind, 
in  the  midst  of  a  dazzling  and  variegated  scene.  An  absence 
of  poetic  feeling  would  be  a  favouring  condition. 

In  the  Vegetable  Kingdom,  as  seen  in  temperate  and  cold 
countries,  men  soon  attain  to  the  generalization  of  alternating 
life  and  death,  in  the  cycle  of  the  year.  Notwithstanding  the 
boundless  variety  and  diversity  of  vegetable  nature,  this  fact, 
of  summer  growth  and  autumnal  fading,  is  too  prominent  to 
be  disguised  by  the  distinctions  between  a  garden  flower  and 
a  forest  oak.  It  would,  consequently,  be  one  of  the  earliest 
generalizations  of  the  human  race  living  out  of  the  tropics. 
The  same  remark  would  apply  to  the  alternation  of  waking 
and  sleeping,  as  a  fact  of  animal  life  in  general.  The  identi- 
fication of  the  daily  repose  of  men  and  animals  generally  with 
the  hybernation  of  some  species,  would  be  less  obvious,  but 
by  no  means  difficult  to  observant  men ;  unless,  indeed,  an 
artificial  obstruction  were  created  by  the  comparison  with 
death,  or  with  the  winter  of  vegetation,  having  already  got 
possession  of  men's  minds. 

The  generalization  of  the  planets,  or  the  tracing  of  a 
common  character,  in  spite  of  accompanying  dissimilarity, 
among  these  wandering  bodies,  would  be  interesting  to 
follow,  if  we  could  now  recover  the  history  of  the  process. 
The  discovery  of  the  common  fact  of  their  circling  round 
the  entire  heavens,  was  by  no  means  easy  in  the  case  of  the 
inferior  planets,  Mercury  and  Venus ;  men's  minds  would  in 
their  case  be  carried  away  with  the  more  limited  circum- 
stances of  their  attending  on  the  sun,  and  their  appearing 
as  morning  and  as  evening  stars. 

The  successions  of  Evolution  are  exemplified  chiefly  in 
the  growth  of  living  beings.     Each  plant  and  animal,  in  the 


532  AGEEEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

course  of  its  existence,  presents  to  our  observation  a  number 
of  successive  phases.  The  great  salient  facts  of  birth  and 
death  are  an  easy  conquest  to  the  identifying  faculty.  Special 
modes  of  growth  can  be  traced  among  limited  groups,  which 
are  thereupon  formed  into  classes;  as,  in  animals,  the  Ovipar- 
ous and  the  Viviparous.  The  successions  of  insect  life  are 
more  complicated.  Close  observation  of  individuals  is  neces- 
sary to  strike  out  these  identities  ;  so  is  the  absence  of  vulgar 
wonderment,  poetical  illusion,  and  strong  prepossessions. 
The  physiological  department  called  Embryology,  includes 
the  knowledge  of  the  earliest  evolutions  of  animals,  and  is 
very  much  dependent  upon  identifying  the  modes  of  growth 
of  creatures  considerably  different  from  one  another,  as  the 
chicken  and  the  infant.  The  difficulty  in  such  a  case  is  to 
prove  that  an  apparent  identity  is  real ;  so  that  what  is 
known  of  the  one  member  of  the  comparison  may,  with 
absolute  certainty,  be  believed  of  the  other.  Whereas,  in 
other  instances,  the  discovery  is  difficult,  but  the  proof  easy  ; 
in  this,  the  discovery  is  easy,  and  the  proof  difficult.  As  to 
the  means  employed  in  ascertaining  the  genuineness  of  an 
identity  seen  by  the  intellectual  glance  of  similarity,  or  the 
logic  of  the  case,  we  are  not  at  present  concerning  ourselves. 
31.  The  Successions  making  up  Human  History  offer 
abundant  instances  of  Similarity  in  Diversity.  Nowhere 
are  comparisons,  good  and  bad,  more  abundantly  struck. 
Plutarch  is  not  the  only  writer  that  has  set  to  work  expressly 
to  construct  historical  parallels.*  In  the  situations  arising 
in  public  affairs,  in  the  problems  that  have  to  be  solved,  in 
the  issues  of  critical  periods,  and  in  the  catastrophes  that 
have  overwhelmed  empires,  the  intellect  of  inquiring  and  ob- 
serving men  finds  numerous  identities.  Sometimes,  we  com- 
pare the  past  with  the  present ;  sometimes,  one  past  epoch 
with  another.  And  such  comparisons  are  seldom  barren 
efforts  of  the  identifying  faculty  ;  they  are  usually  employed 

*  See  the   interesting  volumes  under   this   title,   published  by   Charles 
Knight. 


HISTOEICAL    COMPARISONS.  533 

for  some  end  of  mutual  illustration,  or  in  order  to  infer  in 
the  one  all  the  good  or  bad  features  belonging  to  the  other. 
The  rise  of  the  British  empire  is  compared,  by  one  class  of 
minds,  to  the  history  of  the  great  empires  of  antiquity  ;  the 
object  of  the  comparison  being  to  carry  out   the  analogy  to 
the  full  length  of  anticipating  for  Britain  a  similar  course  of 
decay.     The  parallelisms  that  set  forth  popular  government, 
as  conducting  to  anarchy  and  ending  in  military  despotism, 
have  been  repeated  ad  nauseam.     But  such  are  not  the  com- 
parisons that  illustrate  happily  the  operation  of  the  principle 
now  under  discussion,  or  that  show  the  results  of  identifica- 
tion in  enlarging  the  grasp  of  the  human  intellect.     For 
these  ends,  I  should  choose  rather  to  point  to  comparisons 
made  in  more  limited  chains  of  historic   succession.     The 
narrower  the  field  of  view  contemplated,  the  more  likelihood 
there  is  of  hitting  upon  a  real  and  instructive  comparison. 
Take  the  following,  from  Grote's  Hidonj  of  Greece.     In  dis- 
cussing the  changes  made  in   Sparta  by  the  institutions   of 
Lycurgus,   the   historian    calls  in   question  the  alleged  re- 
partition   of  the   lands    of   the    state    among   the   citizens. 
He  shows    that    this  is  not  stated   by  the  earliest  autho- 
rities,   and   that  it    appears   to   have  gained  credence  only 
after    the    revolutionary  proceedings    of    Agis    and   Kleo- 
menes  in  the  third  century,  B.C.  ;  at  which  time,  he  thinks, 
the  idea  grew  up,  in  consequence  of  its  being  strongly  sug- 
gested by  the  then  present   desire  for  a  similar  re-division. 
'  It  was  under  the  state  of  public  feeling  which  gave  birth  to 
these  projects  of  Agis  and  Kleomenes   at  Sparta,  that  the 
historic  fancy,  unknown  to  Aristotle  and  his  predecessors, 
first  gained  ground,  of  the  absolute  equality  of  property  as  a 
primitive  institution  of  Lycurgus.     How  much  such  a  belief 
would  favour  the  schemes  of  innovation  is  too  obvious  to 
require  notice  ;  and,  without  supposing  any  deliberate  impos- 
ture, we  cannot  be  astonished,  that   the  predispositions  of 
enthusiastic   patriots   interpreted    according   to    their   own 
partiahties  an  old  unrecorded  legislation,  from  which  they 
were  separated  by  more  than  five  centuries.     The  Lycurgean 


534  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

discipline  tended  forcibly  to  suggest  to  men's  minds  the  idea 
of  equality  among  the  citizens — that  is,  the  negation  of  all 
inequality  not  founded  on  some  personal  attribute — inasmuch 
as  it  assimilated  the  habits,  enjoyments,  and  capacities  of  the 
rich  to  those  of  the  poor ;  and  the  equality  thus  existing  in 
idea  and  tendency,  which  seemed  to  proclaim  the  wish  of  the 
founder,  was  strained  by  the  later  reformers  into  a  positive 
institution  which  he  had  at  first  realized,  but  from  which  his 
deo^enerate  followers  had  receded.  It  was  thus  that  the 
fancies,  longings,  and  indirect  suggestions  of  the  present 
assumed  the  character  of  recollections  out  of  the  early, 
obscure,  and  extinct  historical  past.  Perhaps  the  philosopher 
Sphoerus  of  Borysthenes  (friend  and  companion  of  Kleomenes, 
disciple  of  Zeno  the  Stoic,  and  author  of  works  now  lost, 
both  on  Lycurgus  and  Socrates,  and  on  the  constitution  of 
Sparta)  may  have  been  one  of  those  who  gave  currency  to 
such  an  hypothesis.  And  we  shall  readily  believe  that,  if 
advanced,  it  would  find  easy  and  sincere  credence,  when 
we  recollect  how  many  similar  delusions  obtained  vogue  in 
modern  times  far  more  favourable  to  historical  accuracy — how 
much  false  colouring  has  been  attached  by  the  political  feeling 
of  recent  days  to  matters  of  ancient  history,  such  as  the 
Saxon  Witenagemote,  the  Great  Charter,  the  rise  and  growth 
of  the  English  House  of  Commons,  or  even  the  Poor  Law 
of  Elizabeth.'  The  comparisons  contained  in  this  last  sen- 
tence, both  suggest  the  explanation  above  given  of  the  rise 
of  the  belief  in  question,  and  impart  probability  to  it  when 
suggested.  The  same  historian  has  effectively  illustrated  the 
general  body  of  Grecian  legends,  by  a  comparison  with  the 
middle  age  legends  of  the  Eoman  Catholic  Church.  The 
range  of  knowledge  possessed  by  an  historical  inquirer,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  force  of  his  identifying  intellect  in 
that  peculiar  region,  on  the  other,  are  the  sources  of  his  fer- 
tility in  those  comparisons  that  illuminate  the  darker  specks 
of  the  ill-recorded  past.  Whether  those  comparisons  are 
strictly  applicable  and  good,  depends  on  a  quite  different 
criterion,  involving  another  mental  aptitude — the  accurate 


INSTITUTIONAL    COMPAEISONS.  535 

judgment,  or  the  logical  faculty.  We  find  among  historians, 
no  less  than  among  Zoological  inquirers,  the  characteristics 
of  the  Oken  mind — a  fulness  of  analogical  suggestion,  with 
an  absence  of  the  tests  of  truth, 

32.  It  is  not  stepping  far  out  of  the  class  of  instances 
typified  in  the  foregoing  paragraph,  to  advert  to  Institutional 
comparisons,  whether  of  different  ages  or  of  the  same  age. 
The  social  and  political  institutions  of  nations  and  races  have 
often  points  of  agreement  in  the  midst  of  great  diversity ; 
and  a  penetrating  mind — in  other  words,  a  strong  identifying 
faculty — can  bring  together  the  like,  out  of  the  enveloping 
clouds  of  unlikeness.     It  is  easy,  for  example,  to  identify  the 
fact  of  government  as  belonging  to  every  tribe  of  men  that 
act  together  ;  so,  it  is  not  difficult  for  one  absolutism  to  bring 
to  view  all  the  other  instances  of  absolutism  that  have  at 
different  times  been  impressed  on  one's  mind  :  and  the  same 
with  free  or  responsible  governments.     By  this  operation,  we 
gather  up  various  classifications  of  agreeing  institutions,  the 
one  throwing  light  upon  the  other,  and  the  whole  concurring 
to  make  one  broad  luminous  effect,  which  we  call  the  general 
notion  of  government ;  of  absolutism,  of  constitutionalism, 
etc.     The  vast  complexity  and  the  seemingly  endless  variety 
of  human  institutions  are  thus    simplified :    out  of  chaos, 
order  arises,  as  soon  as  similarity  begins  to  draw  together  the 
agreeing  elements  of  the  discordant  heap.     Our  great  writers 
on  Society, — Aristotle,  Vico,  Montesquieu,  Condorcet,  Hume, 
Millar,  James  Mill,  De  Tocqueville,  Buckle,  Herbert  Spencer, 
— have  shown  admirable  tact  in  this  kind  of  Comparative 
History,  with  all  the  effects  of  intellectual  illumination  and 
expansion  that  flow  from  the   bringing  together  of  remote 
sameness.     What  the  historian  does  incidentally,  the  writer 
on  Society  does  upon  system  :  he  searches  the  whole  world 
for  analogies,  and  finds,  if  possible,  a  class  for  every  variety 
that  presents  itself.     Forms  of  Government,  of  Legislation 
and  Justice,  Modes  of  Industry,  Distribution  of  AVealth  and 
Arrangement    of    Ranks,   Domestic    Institutions,    Religion, 
Recreative  Amusements,  etc.,  are  identified  and  classified  so 


53()  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

far  as  they  agree,  with  notification  of  difference  ;  and,  out 
of  the  particulars  drawn  together  in  a  powerful  identifying 
mind,  there  crystalhze,  one  after  another,  the  corresponding 
generals,  and  the  human  reason  advances  in  its  endeavours 
to  comprehend  this  wide  subject.* 

33.  To  return  to  Successions.  There  remains  the  com- 
prehensive department  of  scientific  Cause  and  Effect  (in 
which  many  of  the  foregoing  instances  are  included),  or 
those  successions  where  the  consequent  depends  on  its  ante- 
cedent, and  is  always  produced  b}-  it.  Here  we  remark,  that 
the  same  link  of  causation  is  often  repeated  in  circumstances 
so  widely  apart  that  the  sameness  is  veiled  from  the  percep- 
tion of  the  general  mass  of  minds ;  indeed,  it  not  seldom 
happens  that,  until  some  preparatory  operation  has  drawn 
aside  the  veil,  the  identity  does  not  disclose  itself  to  the  most 
piercing  intellect.  Thus,  to  take  the  two  phenomena — com- 
bustion and  the  rusting  of  iron.  It  was  not  possible  for  any 
mind  to  see  a  common  feature  in  these  two  effects  as  they 
appear  to  the  common  eye  :  the  diversity  as  regards  the 
presence  and  the  absence  of  heat  would  of  itself  be  over- 
powering. It  was  necessary  to  go  through  a  long  series 
of  investigations,  to  ascertain  the  precise  import  of  the  two 
actions  apart.  Other  phenomena  had  to  be  interposed 
having  relations  to  both,  in  order  that  effects  so  unlike 
should  be  seen  as  like.  The  experiments  of  Priestley  upon 
the  red  oxide  of  mercury  were  the  turning-point  in  the 
rapprochement .  These  experiments  showed  that,  when  mer- 
cury is  burned,  it  becomes  heavier,  by  taking  in  some  sub- 
stance from  the  air  ;  which  substance  could  again  be  driven 
off,  and  the  metallic  mercury  reproduced.  The  act  of  com- 
bustion of  the  mercury  was  to  all  appearance  identical  with 
the  burning  of  coal  in  a  fire,  while  the  resulting  change  on 
the  substance — the  conversion  of  the  metal  into  a  red  powder 
— might  suggest  the  process  of  the  rusting  of  iron  ;  the  chief 

*  ^lillar  On    Ranks,  and  the  examination  of  the   Hindu  Institution   in 
Mill's  History  of  British  hulia,  furnish  striking  examples. 


CAUSE    AND    EFFECT   IDENTIFIED.  537 

point  of  diversity  being  the  time  occupied  in  the  two  differ- 
ent operations.  Through  an  intermediate  phenomenon  hke 
this,  the  flash  of  identity  might  pass  between  the  two  ex- 
tremes. It  is  now  known  that  these  are  instances  of  the 
same  natural  action, — the  combination  of  the  sohd  material 
with  the  gaseous  oxygen  of  the  atmosphere. 

In  the  great  problem  of  Inductive  Science, — namely, 
to  discover  the  effects  of  all  causes,  and  the  causes  of  all 
effects, — there  is  a  variety  of  intellectual  operations  gone 
through  :  the  problem  puts  on  many  different  aspects.  But 
there  is  constantly  manifested  the  importance  of  a  powerful 
reach  of  the  identifying  intellect.  Some  discoveries  turn 
upon  this  exclusively ;  and  no  extensive  series  of  discoveries 
can  proceed  w'ithout  it.  In  truth,  the  very  essence  of 
generalization  being  the  bringing  together  of  remote  things 
through  the  attraction  of  sameness,  this  attractive  energy  is 
the  right  hand  of  a  scientific  inquirer.  To  cite  the  greatest 
example  that  the  history  of  science  contains — the  discovery 
of  universal  gravitation,  or  the  identifying  of  the  fall  of  heavy 
bodies  on  the  earth  with  the  attraction  between  the  sun  and 
the  planets, — this  was  a  pure  stroke  of  similarity,  prepared 
by  previous  contemplation  of  the  two  facts  apart.  Newton 
had  for  years  been  studying  the  celestial  motions  :  by  the 
application  of  the  doctrines  of  the  composition  and  resolu- 
tion of  forces  to  the  planetary  movements,  he  had  found  that 
there  were  two  influences  at  work  in  the  case  of  each  planet ; 
that  one  of  these  is  in  the  direction  of  the  sun,  and  the  other 
in  the  direction  of  the  planet's  movement  at  each  instant ; 
that  the  effect  of  the  first,  acting  alone,  would  be  to  draw  the 
body  to  the  sun  ;  and  the  effect  of  the  second,  acting  alone, 
would  be  to  make  it  fly  off  at  a  tangent,  or  in  a  straight  line 
through  space.  By  this  process  of  analysis,  he  had  reduced 
the  question  to  a  much  simpler  state ;  he  had  in  fact 
prepared  the  phenomenon  of  planetary  motion  for  comparison 
with  other  movements  already  understood.  The  analysis 
was  itself  a  remarkable  effort  of  intellect ;  no  other  man 
of  that  time  showed  the  capability  of  handling  the  heavenly 


538  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILAEITY. 

motions  with  such  daring  famiharity — of  intruding  into 
their  spheres  the  calculations  of  terrestrial  mechanics.  The 
perception  of  identity  could  not  be  long  delayed,  after 
such  a  clearing  of  the  way.  Newton  had  familiarized 
himself,  as  the  result  of  this  mechanical  resolution  of  the 
forces  at  work,  with  the  existence  of  an  attractive  force  in 
the  sun,  which  acted  on  all  the  bodies  of  the  system  ;  and 
he  had  discovered,  by  a  further  effort  of  calculation,  that 
this  force  varies  inversely  as  the  square  of  the  distance. 
As  yet,  the  phenomenon  of  solar  attraction  stood  solitary 
in  his  mind  ;  but  it  stood  out  as  a  remarkably  clear  and  de- 
finite conception — so  definite  and  clear  that,  if  ever  he  came 
to  encounter  any  other  phenomenon  of  the  same  nature,  the 
two  would  in  all  probability  flash  together  in  his  mind. 
Such  was  the  preparation  on  the  one  side — the  shaping  of 
one  of  the  two  individual  phenomena.  Then,  as  to  the 
other  member.  He  had  been  acquainted  with  the  falling 
of  bodies  from  his  infancy,  like  everybody  else ;  and  the 
impression  that  it  had  made  on  him,  for  a  length  of  time, 
was  as  superficial  as  it  had  been  in  the  minds  of  his  brethren 
of  mankind.  Like  the  others  he  regarded  it  as  a  phenomenon 
of  sensible  weight,  hurts,  breakage  ;  demanding  machinery 
of  support  and  resistance.  This  was  the  \dew  naturally 
occurring  to  him,  and,  in  this  encumbered  condition,  an 
identity  with  the  pure  and  grand  approach  of  the  distant 
planets  towards  the  sun,  while  held  at  a  vast  distance  from 
the  great  luminar}^  was  not  to  be  looked  for,  even  in  the 
brain  of  Newton,  whose  identifying  reach  was,  undoubtedly, 
of  the  first  order.  He  had  been,  for  long,  in  possession  of 
the  prepared  idea  of  solar  force,  without  its  ever  bringing 
to  his  view,  for  comparison,  the  familiar  fact  of  a  body 
falling  to  the  earth.  It  was,  obviously,  necessary  that 
some  preparatory  operation  should  take  place  upon  this 
notion  likewise ;  some  meditative  effort  that  would  partially 
clear  it  of  the  accompaniments  of  mere  smash,  breakage, 
weight,  support,  etc.,  and  hold  it  up  in  its  purest  form,  as  a 
general   movement  of  all   free   bodies  towards  the  earth's 


DISCOVERY   OF    GRAVITATION.  539 

surface,  or  rather  in  the  direction  of  the  earth's  centre. 
There  was  needed  an  analytic  or  disentanghng  procedure ; 
an  operation  very  distasteful  and  repellent  to  the  common 
mind,  and  stamping  the  scientific  character  upon  any  in- 
tellect at  home  in  it.  At  what  moment  Newton  laid  his 
analytic  grasp  upon  this  ancient  experience  of  our  race,  we 
may  not  now  be  able  precisely  to  determine  :  the  generally 
recounted  incident  of  the  fall  of  the  apple  may  have  been 
the  culminating  point  ;  but  the  course  of  his  studies  of 
terrestrial  mechanics  was  the  essential  element.  One  cannot 
help  supposing  that,  when  the  phenomenon  was  once  taken 
to  task  in  the  way  he  had  already  been  accustomed  to  deal 
with  such  things,  he  would  very  soon  eliminate  the  main 
fact  from  all  the  confusing  circumstantials,  and  see  in  it  an 
instance  of  the  motion  of  one  body  towards  another,  by 
virtue  of  some  inherent  power  in  the  attracting  over  the 
attracted  mass.  This  eliminating  generalization  would  pre- 
sent the  case  pure  and  prepared  to  his  view,  as  the  other 
had  already  been  by  a  previous  operation  ;  and  then  came 
the  flash  of  identification,  and,  with  it,  the  sublime  discovery 
that  brought  heaven  down  to  earth,  and  made  a  common 
force  prevail  throughout  the  solar  system.  Not  less  to  his 
honour  than  the  discovery  itself,  was  his  reserving  the 
announcement,  until  such  time  as  the  proof  was  rendered 
complete,  by  an  accurate  estimate  of  the  magnitude  of  the 
earth,  which  was  a  necessary  datum  in  the  verifying  opera- 
tion. 

This  great  stretch  of  identification — perhaps  the  widest 
leap  that  the  intellect  of  man  has  had  the  opportunity  of 
achieving — not  only  illustrates  the  mental  attraction  of  simi- 
larity, but  also  presents  in  relief  the  preparation  of  the  mind 
for  bringing  on  the  flash.  We  see  the  necessity  there  was 
for  a  powerful  mathematical  faculty,  to  seize  the  laws  of  the 
composition  and  resolution  of  forces,  and  to  apply  them  to 
the  complicated  case  of  elliptic  motion  :  in  this  application, 
Newton  already  made  a  step  beyond  any  mathematician  of 
the  age.     We  observe,  in  the  next  place,  the  intense  hold 


540  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

that  the  mathematical  aspect  of  the  phenomena  took  upon 
him,  —  how  he  could  set  aside  or  conquer  all  the  other 
aspects  so  much  more  imposing  in  the  popular  eye,  and 
which  had  led  to  quite  different  hypotheses  of  the  cause  of 
the  celestial  movements.  This  characteristic  shines  remark- 
ably throughout  the  scientific  writings  of  Newton  :  however 
fascinating  a  phenomenon  may  be,  he  has  his  mind  always 
ready  to  seize  it  with  the  mathematical  pincers — to  regard 
it  in  that  view  alone.  His  mode  of  dealing  with  the  subject 
•of  light  is  an  instance  no  less  striking  that  the  one  we  have 
been  now  setting  forth.  There  was  in  him  either  an  absolute 
indifference  to  the  popular  and  poetic  aspects  of  a  pheno- 
menon, or  a  preference  for  the  scientific  aspect  strong  enough 
to  set  all  these  aside.  The  example,  thus  afforded,  of  un- 
compromising adherence  to  the  relations  of  number  and 
measured  force,  was  probably  the  most  influential  result  of 
his  genius,  at  a  time  when  physical  science  was  as  yet 
un-emancipated  from  the  trammels  of  a  half-poetic  style  of 
theorizing.  The  purifying  or  regenerating  of  the  scientific 
method  was  far  more  owing  to  the  example  of  Newton 
than  to  the  rhetorical  enforcements  of  Bacon.  The  human 
intellect  was  braced  by  dwelling  in  his  atmosphere,  and  his 
avatar  was  the  foremost  circumstance  in  impressing  a 
superior  stamp  upon  the  thought  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Besides  these  two  peculiarities  of  the  Newtonian  mind — 
mathematical  power,  and  exclusive  regard  to  the  mathe- 
matical and  mechanical ;  in  other  words,  the  strictly  scientific 
aspect  of  the  phenomena  to  be  studied, — I  have  indicated  a 
third,  which,  although  not  radically  distinct  from  these,  de- 
serves separate  notice  :  I  mean  analytic  force,  or  the  tendency 
to  separate  the  effects  that  an  object  has  on  the  senses  or 
the  intellect,  and  to  concentrate  the  regard  on  one  particular 
at  a  time.  Thus,  we  have  seen  that  a  falling  body  produces 
a  very  complex  impression — a  gross  and  multifarious  effect ; 
and  this  total  mass  of  sensation  and  feeling  is  the  popular 
notion  of  the  phenomenon.  No  accurate  knowledge  can 
grow  out  of  such  aggregates ;  they  are  the  soil  of  poetry,  not 


THE    REASONING    PROCESSES.  541 

of  science.  I  shall  illustrate  afterwards  the  nature  of  this 
force,  or  impulse,  that  resists  the  totalizing  influence  of  a 
complex  object,  and  isolates  for  study  and  comparison  its 
individual  effects  ;  I  note  it  here  as  the  volitional,  or  what 
may  be  loosely  styled  the  moral,  element  of  the  scientific 
intellect :  it  stood  forth  in  singular  grandeur  in  the  mind  of 
Newton. 

REASONING  AND  SCIENCE  IN  GENERAL. 

34.  Not  to  mention  the  examples  that  we  have  just  now 
parted  from,  many  of  the  instances  of  Similarity  already 
adduced  in  the  course  of  our  exposition  are  strictly  of  the 
nature  of  science.  I  think  it  right,  notwithstanding,  to 
devote  a  separate  head  to  the  operation  of  the  law  in  the 
various  scientific  processes,  with  a  view  to  elucidating  further 
both  it  and  them.  I  shall,  therefore,  make  the  illustration 
fall  under  the  four  divisions  of  Abstraction,  Induction, 
Deduction,  and  Analogy. 

Abstraction,  Classification,  Generalization  of  Notions  or 
Concepts,  General  Names,  Defi^nitions. — These  designations  all 
point  substantially  to  the  same  operation, — namely,  identi- 
fying a  number  of  different  objects  on  some  one  common 
feature,  and  seizing  and  marking  that  feature  as  a  distinct 
subject  of  thought ;  the  identification  being  a  pure  effort  of 
Similarity.  Thus,  we  identify  the  different  running  streams 
that  have  come  under  our  observation,  in  consequence  of 
the  sameness  that  appears  prominent  in  the  midst  of  much 
diversity — any  new  one  will  recall  the  previous  ones ;  and 
they  are  assembled  together  in  the  mind,  not  as  a  miscel- 
laneous aggregate,  but  as  a  class  strung  on  a  common  thread. 
In  this  connexion,  they  add  to  our  information  of  each  : 
some  we  know  chiefly  at  the  sources,  others  at  the  mouth, 
some  in  the  mountains,  others  in  the  plains  ;  accordingly, 
we  supply  gaps  in  our  knowledge  of  any  one  by  means  of 
the  rest.  We  may  go  the  length  of  deriving,  out  of  the 
fragmentary  views,  an  unbroken  whole,  an  ideal  river,  that 
shall  include  all  the  features  of  a  complete  river ;  or  we  may 


5-42  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILAEITY. 

simply  choose  one  that  we  know  better  than  the  rest,  as 
our  representative  instance,  and,  from  it,  supply  blanks  in 
our  view  of  such  as  we  have  less  perfectly  examined.  This 
mutual  supply  of  defects  in  our  knowledge  of  individuals,  is 
one  of  the  advantages  of  assembling  objects  in  a  class.  A 
second  advantage  is  the  substitution  of  one  for  another,  in 
any  practical  end.  We  know,  for  example,  by  some  single 
experience,  that  a  river  bank  is  a  convenient  site  for  a  town 
or  village  ;  and  so  we  can  choose  any  one  of  all  the  rivers  in 
our  knowledge  for  the  same  object.  Here,  then,  we  have 
first  a  classification,  assembled  by  the  attraction  of  similarity ; 
secondly,  a  generalization,  or  general  notion,  concept,  or 
abstract  idea,  being  some  tj'pical  river  that  fairly  represents 
the  group,  and  in  which  we  include  only  what  they  all  have 
in  common  :  this  typical  river  may  be  one  of  the  number, 
or  it  may  be  a  composition  out  of  several.  Thirdly,  we 
have  the  application  of  a  general  name  to  the  class,  the  name 
'river,'  w^hich  shall  express  both  the  whole,  and  what  each 
has  in  common  with  every  other.  A  fourth  operation  is  all 
that  is  necessary  to  complete  the  work, — namely,  to  furnish 
a  definition,  or  an  expression  in  language,  of  the  agreeing 
features  or  common  properties*  of  the  class.  This  exhausts 
the  series  of  operations  connected  with  the  generalization  of 
objects  taken  as  a  total  or  a  unity.  Of  these,  the  first  grows 
out  of  pure  Similarity ;  the  others  suppose  a  somewhat  more 
complicated  process,  to  be  afterwards  described. 

Take,  next,  the  genus  of  Bound  bodies.  As  before,  these 
are  first  mustered  b}'  the  attraction  of  sameness :  their 
identification  has  the  effects,  akeady  specified,  of  mutual  en- 
lightenment and  mutual  exchangeability.  Following  up  this 
operation,  we  seize  upon  some  one  instance  as  a  representa- 
tive or  tj^pical  instance  ;  and  our  idea  of  this  we  call  the 
abstract,  or  general  idea.  We  can  here  adopt  a  very  refined 
method  :  we  draw  an  outline  circle,  omitting  the  solid  sub- 


*  A  river  may  be  defined  as  a  '  natural  current  of  water  flowing  in  an  open 
channel  towards  the  sea,'  or  to  that  effect. 


ABSTRACTION.  543 

stance,  and  presenting  only  naked  form  to  the  eye :  this  is  an 
abstraction  of  a  higher  order  than  we  could  gain  by  choosing 
a  specimen  circular  object,  as  a  wheel,  for  it  leaves  out  a 
greater  number  of  the  features  wherein  circular  bodies  differ. 
The  mathematical  Diagram  is  thus  more  of  an  actual  abstrac- 
tion than  the  idea  of  a  river  or  of  a  mountain  derived  from  a 
fair  average  specimen,  or  than  a  composite  river  or  mountain. 
We  may  advance,  however,  from  the  diagram  to  a  Definition 
by  descriptive  words  ;  and  we  may  adopt  this  as  our  general 
conception,  and  use  it  in  all  our  operations  instead  of,  or 
along  with,  the  other.  (A  circle  is  defined  to  be  aline  every- 
where equi-distant  from  a  point,  which  is  the  centre.)  The 
definition  is,  in  fact,  the  highest  form  of  the  abstract  idea, — 
the  form  that  we  constantly  fall  back  upon  as  the  test  or 
standard  for  trjring  any  new  claim  of  admission  into  the  class, 
or  for  revising  the  list  begun  with. 

I  do  not  here  enter  into  the  great  controversy  of  Nominal- 
ism and  Eealism  ;  having  done  so  in  another  place  (Mental  and 
Moral  Science,  Appendix  A).  There  is  considerable  subtlety  in 
stating  the  precise  nature  of  that  mental  element  called  an 
abstract  idea,  notion,  or  concept.  The  view  now  prevailing  ap- 
proaches more  or  less  closely  to  NominaUsm  ;  denying  alike  the 
separate  existence  of  abstractions  (Eealism),  and  the  power  of 
mentally  conceiving  them  as  such  (Conceptualism).  An  abstract 
idea,  as  stated  in  the  text,  is  one  of  three  things  : — (1)  The  assem- 
bled group  of  concrete  instances,  which  may  be  momentarily  repre- 
sented by  a  single  individual ;  (2)  a  skeleton  outline,  or  diagram, 
which  is  still  a  concrete  instance — a  circle  in  Euclid  has  a  definite 
colour  and  size,  and,  therefore,  is  not  any  and  every  circle  ; 
(3)  a  verbal  definition.     Sometimes,  we  may  have  all  the  three. 

The  foundation  of  abstract  reasoning  must  always  be  an  ade- 
quate host  of  particulars.  To  reason  about  Justice,  we  must  be 
able  to  recall  a  sufficient  variety  of  just  actions  to  bring  to  view 
all  the  characters  connoted  by  justice,  and  to  exclude  those  that 
are  not  connoted.  So,  with  regard  to  Roundness  :  we  must  keep 
in  view  several  circles  differing  in  material,  colour,  and  size,  so 
as  to  affirm  nothing  but  what  belongs  to  all  circles. 


544  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

The  verbal  definition  provides  a  mode  of  seemingly  evading 
this  requirement  of  a  plurality  of  concrete  instances.  It  cannot 
dispense  with  the  concrete  altogether  ;  but  it  may  make  one 
instance  suffice.  To  understand  the  definition  of  matter — 
namely,  something  inert,  or  resisting, — it  would  be  enough  to 
have  one  example  before  us,  as  a  cannon  ball,  provided  we  un- 
derstand that  all  the  properties  of  the  ball  are  to  be  excluded 
from  our  consideration,  except  its  inertness.  We  may,  and  do  in 
some  subjects,  contract  the  habit  of  looking  at  an  individual 
concrete  in  this  exclusive  way, — which  is  the  greatest  stretch  of 
abstraction  within  the  competence  of  the  mind.  But  this  is  the 
act  of  the  mature  intelligence. 

35.  Induction,  Inductive  Generalization,  Conjoined  Pro- 
perties, Ajffirmations,  Propositions,  Judgments,  Belief,  Laivs 
of  Nature. — The  contrast  between  Abstraction  and  Induc- 
tion, as  here  understood,  maybe  expressed  thus  :  in  the  one, 
a  single  isolated  property,  or  a  collection  of  properties  treated 
as  a  unity,  is  identified  and  generalized  ;  in  the  other,  a  con- 
junction, union,  or  concurrence  of  tv:o  distinct  properties  is 
identified.  We  exemplify  the  first  process,  when  w'e  bring 
all  rivers  into  one  class,  and  define  the  property  common  to 
all ;  the  second  process.  Induction,  is  exemplified  when  we 
note  the  fact  that  rivers  wear  away  their  beds,  or  the  fact 
that  they  deposit  deltas  at  their  mouths.  In  the  latter  case 
two  different  things  are  conjoined :  the  flow  of  water  over  a 
country  to  the  sea  in  an  open  channel,  which  makes  the  idea 
of  a  river,  is  associated  with  the  circumstance  of  depositing 
or  forming  land  in  a  particular  situation.  This  conjunction 
makes  an  Affirmation,  or  a  Proposition ;  the  idea  of  a  river 
by  itself,  or  anything  expressed  by  a  noun,  is  not  an  affirma- 
tion. A\Tien  we  affirm  the  uniform-  co-existence  of  two  dis- 
tinct facts,  we  have  a  Law  of  Nature,  an  intellectual  posses- 
sion respecting  the  world,  an  extension  of  our  knowledge,  a 
shortening  of  labour  :  of  the  two  conjoined  things,  the 
presence  of  one  is  at  any  time  sufficient  to  assure  us  of  the 
presence   of   the    other,    without    further   examination :    as 


INDUCTION.  545 

surely  as  we  meet  with  a  river,  so  surely  shall  we  find  the 
carrying  down  of  mud  to  be  deposited  at  the  mouth,  if  the 
two  facts  be  really  connected  as  we  suppose.  An  abstraction 
or  definition  gives  us  a  general  idea ;  it  assembles  a  class  of 
things  marked  by  the  presence  of  this  common  feature — the 
class  river,  the  class  circle,  the  class  red,  the  class  planet, 
the  class  just, — but  does  not  convey  a  proposition,  a  law  of 
nature,  a  truth. 

In  forming  these  inductive  generalizations,  w^e  need  the 
identifying  impetus  very  much  as  in  abstractive  generaliza- 
tions. The  case  is  distinguished  only  by  being  more  com- 
plex :  it  is  properly  a  stage  beyond  the  other  in  the  order  of 
discovery,  although  the  two  are  often  accomplished  by  one 
and  the  same  effort  of  the  sense  and  the  understanding.  Still, 
in  order  to  arrive  at  the  knowledge  that  rivers  form  bars  and 
deltas,  we  require  to  have  observed  the  peculiarities  of  rivers, 
and  to  have  been  arrested  by  their  identity  on  this  point. 
Standing  at  the  mouth  of  one,  and  observing  the  island  which 
parts  its  stream,  we  are  reminded,  by  a  stroke  of  reinstating 
similarity,  of  the  mouth  of  some  other  where  a  similar  for- 
mation occurs,  with  perhaps  many  points  of  diversity  of  cir- 
cumstances. These  two  coming  together  will  bring  up  others,^ 
until  we  have  assembled  in  the  mind's  eye  the  whole  array 
that  our  memory  contains.  Such  is  the  first  stage  of  an  in- 
ductive discovery  ;  it  is  the  suggestion  of  a  law  of  nature, 
which  we  are  next  to  verify.  The  conflux  of  all  the  separate 
examples  in  one  \'iew  indicates  to  the  mind  the  common  con- 
junction, and  out  of  this  we  make  a  general  affirmation,  as  in 
the  other  process  we  made  a  general  notion  or  idea.  Now,  a 
general  affirmation  by  means  of  language  makes  a,  proposition , 
not  a  definition  ;  it  needs  a  verb  for  its  expression,  and  is  a 
law  or  a  truth,  something  to  be  believed  and  acted  on. 

In  like  manner,  it  is  by  an  identification  of  the  separate 
instances  falling  under  our  notice,  that  we  are  struck  with 
the  conjunction,  in  an  animal,  of  cloven  hoofs  with  the  act 
of  ruminating  and  with  herbaceous  food.  To  take  a  more 
abstruse  example.     We  identify  the  conjunction  of  transpa- 

35 


I 


546  AGEEEMENT— LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

rency  in  bodies  with  the  bending  of  the  rays  of  hght.     These 
transparent  bodies  are  of  very  various  nature— air,  water, 
glass    crystaUine  minerals  ;  but,  after  a  certain  length    of 
observation,  the  identity  makes  itself  felt  through  them  all. 
By  an  abstractive  process,  we  gain  the  general  idea  of  trans- 
parency ;  by  looking,  not  simply  at  the  fact  of  the  luminous 
transmission,  but  at  the  direction  of  the  Hght,  we  generalize 
.an  induction,  a  proposition,  conjoining  two  properties  instead 
of  isolating  one.     The  operation  of  induction  is  thus  of  the 
same  nature,  but  more  arduous,  and  implying  greater  labour, 
-than  the  operation  of  abstraction.     The  same  cast  of  mmd 
favours   both  ;  the  same  obstructions  block  the  way.      To 
make  a  scientific  induction,  the  mind  must  have  the  power 
of  regarding  the  scientific  properties  and  disregarding  the  un- 
scientific aspects  :  in  discovering  the  refraction  of  hght,  the 
attention  must  fasten  on  the  circumstance  of  mathematical 
direction,  and  must  not  be  carried  away  with  vulgar  astonish- 
ment at  the  distorting  effect  of  hght  upon  objects  seen  through 
water  or  glass.     To  take  in  the  more  abstruse  and  dissimilar 
instances,  as  the  refractive  influence  of  the  air,  there  is  needed 
a  preparation  similar  to  that  already  exemplified  m  assimilat- 
ing rust  and  combustion. 

Sometimes  an  induction  from  a  few  identified  particulars 
can  be  fitted  in  to  a  previously  established  formula  or  gener- 
ahzation.     The  preceding  instance  of  the  refraction  of  light 
furnishes  a  case  in  point  ;  and  I  quote  it  as  a  further  example 
of  the  identifying  operation.     The  bending  of  the  hght  on 
entering  or  leaving  a  surface  of  glass,  water,  or  other  trans- 
parent material,  varies  with  the  mchnation  of  the  ray  to  the 
surface :  at  a  right  angle,  there  is  no  bending  ;  at  all  other 
angles,  there  is  bending,  and  it  is  greater  as  the  course  is 
farther  from  the  right  angle,  being  greatest  of  all  when  the 
ray  hes  over  so  much  as  almost  to  run  along  the  surface. 
Now,  an  important  identification  was  here  discovered  by  Snell, 
—namely,  the  identity  of  the  rate  of  refraction  at  different 
angles  with  the  trigonometrical  relation  of  the  sines  of  the 
angles,  expressed  thus:— The  sines  of  the  angles  of  incidence 


FITTING    (JF    INDUCTIONS    TO   MATHEMATICAL    RELATIONS.    547 

and  refraction  bear  a  constant  proportion  within  the  same 
mediam,  or  the  same  kind  of  material.  Here  the  observed 
amount  of  the  bending  at  different  angles  was  fomid  to 
accord  with  a  foregone  relation  of  the  mathematical  lines 
connected  with  the  circle.  This  too  may  be  looked  upon  as 
a  discovery  of  identification,  demanding  in  the  discoverer 
not  only  great  reach  of  Similarity,  but  antecedent  acquire- 
ments in  the  geometry  of  the  circle,  ready  to  be  started  by 
such  a  case  of  parallelism  as  the  above.  Inductions  falling 
into  numerical  and  geometrical  relations,  previously  excogi- 
tated, occur  very  frequently  in  the  progress  of  discovery.  All 
Kepler's  laws  are  identifications  of  this  nature  :  his  third 
law,  which  connects  the  distances  of  the  planets  from  the  sun 
with  their  periodic  times,  is  a  remarkable  instance.  He  had 
before  him  two  parallel  columns  of  numbers,  six  in  the 
column,  corresponding  to  the  six  known  planets ;  one  column 
contained  the  distances,  another  the  times  of  revolution ;  and 
he  set  himself  to  ascertain  whether  the  relations  of  these 
numbers  could  come  under  any  one  rule  of  known  propor- 
tiftns.  They  were  not  in  a  simple  proportion,  direct  or  in- 
verse, and  they  were  not  as  the  squares,  nor  as  the  cubes  ; 
they  turned  out  at  last  to  be  a  complication  of  square  and 
cube.  The  law  of  areas  is,  perhaps,  an  equally  remarkable 
example  of  a  series  of  particulars  embraced  in  an  all-compre- 
hending formula,  from  the  existing  stores  of  mathematical 
knowledge.  In  all  these  discoveries  of  Kepler,  we  perhaps 
should  admire  the  aims,  the  determination  and  perseverance 
of  his  mind,  still  more  than  the  grasp  of  his  intellect.  We 
have  before  remarked,  that  for  a  man  to  extricate  himself 
from  the  prevailing  modes  of  viewing  natural  appearances, 
and  to  become  attached  to  a  totally  original  aspect,  is  itself 
a  proof  of  mental  superiority,  and  often  the  principal 
turning-point  of  great  discoveries.  The  identifying  faculty 
in  Kepler  showed  itself  less  prominently  in  the  particular 
strokes,  than  in  the  mode  of  taking  up  the  entire  problem — the 
detection  of  a  common  character  in  the  motions  of  the  planets 
and  the  relations  of  the  numbers  and  curves.     To  make  that 


548  AGEEEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

a  pure  mathematical  problem,  that  really  is  one,  but  has 
not  hitherto  been  sufficiently  regarded  as  such,  is  itself  a 
great  example  of  the  scientific  intellect :  it  was  the  glory 
alike  of  Kepler  and  of  Newton.  A  previously  equipped 
mathematical  mind,  a  wide  reach  of  identifying  force,  and 
an  indifference  or  superiority  to  poetical  and  fanciful  aspects, 
concur  in  all  the  authors  of  discoveries  that  bind  the  conjunc- 
tions of  nature  in  mathematical  laws.  The  great  revolution 
in  Chemistry  made  by  the  introduction  of  definite  combining 
numbers,  has  been  even  more  rapidly  prolific  of  great  conse- 
quences than  the  discoveries  that  give  Mechanics,  Astronomy, 
and  Optics  the  character  of  mathematical  sciences.  The 
introduction  of  numerical  conceptions  into  the  subtle  pheno- 
mena of  Heat,  through  Black's  doctrine  of  latent  heat,  ex- 
hibits a  stroke  of  high  intellect  not  inferior  to  any  of  those 
now  adduced.  The  difficulty  of  seizing  the  phenomena  of 
freezing,  melting,  boiling,  and  condensing,  in  a  bald,  numer- 
ical estimate,  is  attested  by  the  lateness  of  the  discovery,  if 
not  sufficiently  apparent  to  any  one  that  considers  how  very 
different  from  this  is  the  impression  that  these  effects  have 
on  the  common  mind.  The  efigrossing  sensations  of  warmth 
and  cold,  the  providing  of  fuel  and  clothing,  the  prevention 
of  draughts,  or  the  admission  of  cool  air — are  the  trains  of 
thought  usually  suggested  by  the  various  facts  of  congelation, 
liquefaction,  etc.  :  to  enter  upon  those  other  trains  is  a  con- 
sequence of  special  training  and  endowment,  the  explanation 
of  which,  according  to  general  laws  of  mind,  has  been  one 
of  the  aims  of  our  protracted  examination  of  the  human 
intellect. 

36.  Deduction,  Inference,  Ratiocination,  Syllogism,  Appli- 
cation or  Extension  of  Inductions. — I  have  repeatedly  urged 
the  value  of  the  identifying  process  in  extending  our  know- 
ledge, by  transferring  all  that  has  been  ascertained  in  some 
one  case  to  every  other  case  of  the  same  description.  This 
operation  is  described  under  the  above  titles.  It  is  an 
Inference,  a  Deduction,  a  step  of  Reasoning,  the  extension 
of  an  affirmation  from  the   known  to  the  unknown.      The 


DEDUCTION.  549 

discovery  of  a  full  identity  between  the  new  cases  and  the 
old,  is  a  justification  of  this  transference  of  properties. 
Having  observed,  in  innumerable  cases,  that  human  beings 
go  through  a  course  of  birth,  maturity,  decay,  and  death,  we 
transfer  their  fate  to  those  now  alive,  and  we  declare  before- 
hand that  each  and  all  of  these  will  go  through  the  same 
course.  This  is  to  make  an  inference,  to  reason,  to  apply  our 
knowledge  to  new  cases,  to  know  the  future  from  the  past, 
the  absent  from  the  present.  So,  when  we  land  on  the 
banks  of  a  strange  river,  we  instantly  act  on  the  assumption 
that  this  river  has  its  origin  in  high  lands,  its  destination  in 
the  sea,  and,  at  its  mouth,  a  deposit  of  mud  of  larger  or 
smaller  dimensions.  The  little  that  we  see  of  the  river,  by 
walking  a  few  miles  along  its  bank,  is  enough  to  identify  it 
with  the  rivers  already  known  to  us,  or  with  our  general 
notion,  or  abstract  idea,  or  definition  of  a  river ;  and,  on  this 
identity,  we  forthwith  transfer  all  our  experience  connected 
with  rivers  in  general,  and  all  then- conjoined  phenomena,  to 
the  newly  occurring  individual  case.  When  our  knowledge 
comes  thus  to  transcend  our  actual  experience,  we  are 
properly  said  to  draw  an  inference. 

This  process  of  influence,  or  extension  of  properties^ 
therefore,  evidently  comes  of  the  identifying  faculty,  by 
which  the  new  cases  and  the  old  are  brought  face  to  face 
before  us.  If  the  question  be, — Given  a  certain  number  of 
particulars,  where  a  natural  law  is  exemplified,  to  discover 
other  particulars  whereto  we  may  extend  or  apply  the  law, 
and  so  reveal  new  characters  in  those  particulars, — these  new 
cases  must  be  summoned  to  the  view  by  a  stroke  of  simi- 
larity. Thus,  Newton  observed,  in  various  instances,  that, 
when  a  transparent  body  is  largely  made  up  of  combustible 
matter,  as  an  oil  or  a  resin,  it  bends  light  to  an  unusual 
degree  ;  in  other  words,  he  made  an  induction  of  particulars 
where  combustibility  of  substance  and  excessive  bending  of 
light  were  conjoined  properties.  He  next  bethought  himself 
of  any  other  substances,  besides  those  in  his  immediate  view, 
that  possessed  one  of  these  properties,  and  his  recollection  of 


550  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

the  refracting  power  of  the  diamond  responded  to  his  call 
by  a  stroke  of  similarity  :  he,  thereupon,  extended  to  the 
diamond  the  other  property, — namely,  combustibility  of 
material ;  or  inferred,  what  no  one  had  ever  experienced, 
that  the  diamond  is  a  combustible  substance,  a  singular 
exception  to  the  class  of  precious  stones.  This  obtrusion  of 
observed  coincidences  upon  all  parallel  cases,  the  active 
search  for  new  particulars  to  have  the  observed  properties 
thrust  upon  them,  is  one  of  the  ways  of  extending  the 
domain  of  knowledge.  The  inquirer  has  got  in  his  hand  a 
clue,  and  makes  a  business  of  following  it  out  wherever  he 
can  find  an  opening ;  he  has  made  his  induction,  and  lies  in 
wait  for  opportunities  of  pushing  it  out  into  deductions.  In 
this  endeavour,  he  relies  on  his  identifying  faculty  ;  which, 
if  pow^erful,  makes  him,  as  it  were,  keen-scented  for  every- 
thing in  the  memory  of  the  past  that  bears  a  resemblance  to 
his  case  :  the  recollections  that,  in  an  obtuse  mind,  would 
lie  unawakened  by  the  magnetism  of  similarity,  in  a  mind  of 
a  different  stamp,  start  out  one  by  one  for  examination  and 
choice ;  and  in  this  lies  the  harvest-home  of  the  man  of 
intellect. 

The  converse  may  next  be  put.  Given  an  obscure  phe- 
nomenon, to  illuminate  it  by  bringing  forward  parallels  or 
identities  among  phenomena  that  are  clear  and  intelligible ; 
it  being  supposed  that  such  have  actually  occurred  at  some 
time  or  other,  although  in  connexions  altogether  remote 
from  the  present  difficulty,  so  that  only  the  force  of  Simi- 
larity can  bring  them  up.  The  position  of  the  inquirer  is 
altered,  but  the  intellectual  operation  is  the  same  :  to  sum- 
mon the  clear  to  illuminate  the  dark,  or  to  summon  the  dark 
to  be  illuminated  by  the  clear,  must  alike  proceed  on  a  felt 
identity;  which  identity  is  both  the  mental  link  of  attraction, 
and  the  circumstance  that  justifies  the  transference  of  infor- 
mation from  the  one  to  the  other.  We  have  already  had 
instances  in  point ;  but,  instead  of  recurring  to  these,  I  will 
cite  the  great  identity  made  out  by  Franklin  between  the 
thunder  and  lightning  of  the  sky,  and  electricity,  as  shown 


DEDUCTIVE    EXPLANATION.  551 

on  the  common  electrical  machine.  Next  to  the  discovery 
of  gravitation,  this  is  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  fetch  of 
remote  identification  in  the  history  of  science.  The  pheno- 
menon of  the  thmidery  discharge  was  an  exceedingly  obscure 
and  mysterious  action.  The  natural  obscurity  of  the  case 
was  further  increased  by  the  emotions  habitually  inspired  in 
men's  minds;  for  nothing  is  more  difficult,  than  to  identify, 
on  a  mere  intellectual  similarity,  what  excites  deep  emotions, 
(especially  fear),  with  what  excites  no  emotion  at  all.  Only 
a  cool  intellectual  nature,  like  Franklin's,  was  a  match 
for  such  a  case.  He  could  face  the  evolution  of  a  thunder- 
storm, and  watch  it  with  all  the  calmness  that  he  w^ould 
have  shown  in  an  ordinary  philosophical  experiment,  de- 
hberately  bethinking  himself  the  while  of  any  parallel 
phenomenon  wherewith  he  could  identify  and  illustrate  it. 
Had  he  lived  a  hundred  years  earlier,  his  attempt  would 
have  been  in  vain ;  for,  of  all  the  scientific  facts  that  could 
have  crossed  his  view  in  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  there  was  no  one  that  bore  upon  the  case  in  hand, 
either  obvious  or  remote.  In  the  eighteenth  century,  his- 
position  was  different :  the  electrical  machine  was  a  familiar 
instrument,  and  an  intelligible  account  of  its  phenomena  had 
been  rendered ;  and  these  phenomena  had  been  expressly 
studied  by  Franklin,  and  were  vividly  impressed  on  his 
mind.  To  his  cool  eye  gazing  on  the  storm,  the  forked 
lightning  identified  itself  (in  the  midst  of  a  diversity  that 
few  minds  could  have  broken  through)  with  the  spark  of  an 
electrical  discharge.  This  was,  indeed,  the  only  feature  of 
resemblance,  unless  a  favourable  accident  had  revealed  some 
other  coincidence,  such  as  the  existence  of  an  electrical  charge 
in  the  clouds  before  a  storm ;  and  the  identification  must 
be  ranked  among  the  grandest  fetches  of  Similarity.  The 
identity  once  struck  was  duly  verified,  and  proved  to  be  a 
real  and  not  a  superficial  or  apparent  sameness  ;  being,  in 
fact,  the  same  natural  agent  showing  itself  in  widely  different 
situations.  Then  came  all  the  deductive  applications  :  the 
circumstances  known  to  accompany  and  precede  the  dis- 


552  AGREEMENT— LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

charge  of  a  Leydeii  jar  could  be  transferred  to  the  electrical 
storm  ;  the  charging  of  the  clouds  with  one  electricity  and 
the  earth  with  an  opposite,  the  increase  of  electrical  tension 
to  the  pitch  that  an  intervening  insulator  could  no  longer 
restrain,  the  shock  of  discharge, — were  seen,  through  the 
medium  of  the  familiar  parallel,  to  be  the  routine  of  the 
lightning  and  thunder  of  the  sky.  Every  new  fact,  ascer- 
tained upon  the  machine,  could  thenceforth  be  extended 
to  the  electricity  of  the  atmosphere ;  what  was  not  discover- 
able by  examining  this  directly,  could  be  known  through  the 
other,  as  "a  deductive  inference. 

The  subject  of  electricity  could  furnish  many  other  ex- 
amples of  scientific  identification  on  a  great  scale. 

87.  Reasoning  by  Analog)/.  The  three  foregoing  sections 
include  three  out  of  the  four  leading  processes,  or  cardinal 
operations  of  discovery.  (The  process  of  Observation,  in  one 
sense  the  foundation  of  the  whole,  does  not  depend  directly 
upon  the  faculty  we  are  now  discussing.)  Every  great  step 
in  science,  exclusive  of  original  observations  and  experiments, 
is  either  an  Abstraction,  an  Induction,  or  a  Deduction.  But 
resort  is  occasionally  had  to  Analogy,  instead  of  Identity,  as 
a  basis  of  deduction  or  inference  ;  and,  for  our  purpose  of 
illustrating  similarity,  the  striking  out  of  analogies  is  in 
point.  As  an  example  of  analogical  reasoning  or  inference, 
I  may  take  the  comparison  of  human  society  to  a  family, 
with  the  transfer  of  the  duties  and  powers  of  the  head  of  the 
family  to  the  Sovereign  of  the  state.  This  transfer  is  an  in- 
ference or  deduction,  and  is  often  tendered  as  a  reason  for 
the  tutelary  and  despotical  character  of  the  Sovereign.  The 
two  cases  are  not  identical ;  they  possess  an  analogy,  and  a 
good  reasoner  remarks  how  far  the  analogy  holds,  and  con- 
fines his  inferences  within  those  limits.  In  like  manner, 
human  society  has  suggested  the  analogy  of  herds  and  hives, 
— a  comparison  much  insisted  on  by  Aristotle.  A  mind  well 
stored  with  numerous  conceptions,  the  fruit  of  various  studies, 
and  having  at  the  same  time  a  good  reach  of  the  identifying 
faculty,  can  strike  out  analogies  when  identities  fail ;  and,  by 


REASONING    BY    ANALOGY.  553 

their  means,  a  certain  amount  of  insight  is  sometimes  obtain- 
able. We  have  had  occasion  to  advert  to  one  remarkable 
scientific  analogy, — namely,  that  between  nerve-force  and 
common  electricity ;  from  which  we  have  not  hesitated  to 
draw  inferences,  in  order  to  support  a  certain  view  of  the 
manner  of  working  of  the  nervous  system.  Sometimes,  a 
further  investigation  will  convert  an  analogy  into  an  identity, 
as  was  the  case  with  gravitation, — if  it  be  true  that  Hooke 
came  so  near  as  to  quote  terrestrial  gravity  as  an  illustration 
of  solar  attraction ;  and  as  may  be  the  case  with  electricity 
and  nerve-force.  But  analogies,  in  another  sense  of  the 
word,  are  similarities  of  relation  in  diversity  of  subject, — as  in 
the  case  of  society  already  quoted,  where  the  analogical  char- 
acter is  the  permanent  fact.  The  circumstance  of  evolution, 
attaching  to  the  vegetable  and  animal  kingdoms — the  suc- 
cessive stages  of  birth,  growth,  and  decay — is  but  an  analogy 
as  between  a  plant  and  an  animal ;  to  a  still  greater  degree 
is  this  the  case,  when  we  are  comparing  the  mental  develop- 
ment of  a  human  being  with  the  growth  of  a  tree,  not  to 
speak  of  the  much  more  remote  comparison  between  the 
growth  of  humanity,  as  a  whole,  and  the  progress  of  an  in- 
dividual animal,  or  plant.  This  last  analogy  is,  indeed,  too 
faint  to  be  of  any  value,  and  is  misleading  if  deductions  are 
made  from  it.  The  logical  caution  that  must  accompany 
discoveries  of  supposed  identity,  is  still  more  called  for  in 
the  slippery  regions  of  analogy. 

38.  The  exemplification  now  given  of  Similarity  operating 
in  Science,  is  a  nearly  complete  account  of  the  nature  of  the 
intellectual  faculty  called  Eeasoning.  Some  philosophers, 
as  Reid  and  Stewart,  have  separated  the  mental  processes 
concerned  in  Science  into  two — Abstraction  and  Beason. 
The  one  is  the  first  of  the  three  operations  described  above  ; 
the  other.  Reason,  would  be  interpreted  as  covering  Induc- 
tion and  Deduction.  Sir  W.  Hamilton  includes  the  whole 
under  one  head, — variously  named  by  him  the  Elaborative  or 
Discursive  Faculty,  Comparison,  the  Faculty  of  Relations, 
and  also  Thought,  in  a  certain  narrow  sense,  as  when  Logic 


554  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

is  defined  'the  science  of  the  laws  of  Thought'.  In  the 
detailed  exposition,  he  divides  the  operations  of  the  Faculty 
into  two  parts,  corresponding  to  the  division  into  Abstraction 
and  Reason  {Lectures  on  Metaphysics,  ii.  277).  This  seems  the 
best  view  to  take  of  the  scientific  faculty.  As  regards  the 
mental  forces  concerned — the  chief  of  these  being  Similarity, 
— there  is  no  essential  difference  between  Abstraction,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  Induction,  or  Deduction,  on  the  other ; 
although  the  subjects  and  products  are  so  far  different,  that 
it  is  convenient  to  illustrate  them  separately. 

In  remarking  above  that  Similarity  does  not  explain  the 
whole  of  the  scientific  faculty,  I  mean  that  Abstraction, 
Induction,  and  Deduction,  frequently  involve  something 
besides  the  bringing  together  of  resembling  particulars  or 
facts ;  what  that  something  is,  will  be  seen  in  the  chapter 
on  the  Constructive  operations  of  the  Intellect. 

BUSINESS   AND   PRACTICE. 

39.  In  Business  or  Industry,  in  the  power  of  intelligence 
applied  to  the  affairs  of  life,  in  Practical  Genius,  we  find 
exemplified  the  discovery  of  deep  identities  amid  superficial 
differences.  In  the  inventions  of  practical  art,  no  less  than 
in  the  discoveries  of  science,  the  identifying  facult}^  is  called 
into  play. 

The  labours  of  Watt,  in  the  steam-engine,  might  with 
great  propriety  be  farther  cited,  to  correspond  with  the 
greatest  strokes  of  scientific  identification.  Perhaps  his 
'  governor  balls '  is  the  most  illustrative  example  for  our 
present  purpose.  Here,  he  had  to  devise  a  method  of 
opening  and  closing  a  valve,  in  connexion  with  the  diminu- 
tion or  increase  of  the  speed  of  a  very  rapid  wheel  move- 
ment ;  and  no  device  in  the  range  of  existing  machinery 
would  answer  this  object.  He  had,  therefore,  to  venture  out 
into  the  region  of  mechanical  possibility,  to  seek  among 
mechanical  laws  in  general,  or  among  very  remote  natural 
phenomena,  for  a  parallel  situation  ;  and  he  found  the  only 
case  that  has  yet  been  hit  upon, — namely,   the  action  of 


-  EXTENSION    OF    MECHANICAL    DEVICES.  557 

a   centrifugal   force    where   two   revolving  bodies  partvould 
come  together,  according  as  the  rate  of  revolution  is  ace  the 
rated  or  retarded.     I  am  not  aware  of  any  stroke  of  remdon 
identification,  in  the  history  of  mechanical  invention,  sui 
passing   this   in   intellectual    reach :    if    such    a   power    of 
bringing  together  the  like  out  of  the  unlike  were  of  usual 
occurrence,  the  progress  of  discovery  would  be  incalculably 
more  rapid.     Another  instance  of  Watt's  power  of  identi- 
fying a  practical  situation  with  some  other  case  where  the 
requisite  construction   is    given,   was  the    suggestion   of  a 
lobster-jointed  pipe,  for  conveying  water  across  the  bottom 
of  the  river  Clyde.     The  inventive  genius  is  ever  ready  with 
a  suggestion    derived   from  some    already   existing   device, 
disguised  from  the  sight  of  other  men,  either  in  the  arrange- 
ments of  nature  or  in  the  constructions  of  art.     Identifying 
power,  although  not  expressing  everything  that  constitutes  an 
inventor,  will  be  found  a  prominent  feature  in  the  character. 
As  in  the  other  departments,  so  here  also,  the  identifying 
faculty  must  operate  in  a  suitable  region  of  previous  acqui- 
sitions and  experience. 

In  the  able  administration  of  private  business  and  public 
affairs,  we  shall  often  be  able  to  detect  the  same  force  at 
work,  although  not  always  designated  invention  or  genius. 
Either  in  meeting  new  cases,  or  in  bringing  superior  methods 
to  bear  upon  old,  there  is  a  march  of  mind,  an  advance  over 
routine,  which  marks  the  able  administrator  ;  and  here,  too, 
the  link  of  power  consists  in  a  more  than  ordinary  force  of 
identification.  AVhen  a  present  emergency  is  exactly  like  a 
previous  one,  it  recalls  that  one  without  difticulty,  and  is 
treated  as  that  was  treated;  when  it  corresponds  exactly  to 
no  one  before,  a  subtler  mind  is  wanted — some  parallel 
must  be  sought  for,  away  from  the  routine  of  cases.  Into 
quite  remote  regions  of  affairs,  the  man  of  penetration  is 
carried,  and  finds  something  in  point  where  perhaps  no 
parallel  was  ever  drawn  before.  The  application  of  the 
Syllogism  to  Law  pleadings  was  a  great  legal  improvement, 
which  has  persisted  while  scholastic  forms  have  gone  gener- 


^"^^  AGEEEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

^^  *^?iito  decay.  No  routine  lawyer  was  capable  of  such  an 
ovation.  If,  for  illustration's  sake,  we  suppose  it  to  have 
^^^^sn  the  work  of  one  person,  it  implies  a  mind  that  came  to 
^Iie  study  of  law  previously  prepared  with  the  scholastic 
training,  and  detecting  in  the  pleadings  before  the  courts  a 
real  identity  in  form  with  the  discussions  of  the  schools, 
although  hitherto  conducted  with  no  such  method  or  preci- 
sion. The  transference  of  the  syllogism  to  the  legal  reason- 
ings would  be  the  consequence  of  this  feeling  of  identity ; 
and  hence  would  arise  that  capital  requirement  of  making 
parties  plead  separately  to  the  law,  and  to  the  facts  of  the 
case,  instead  of  huddling  up  both  in  one  argument  as  is 
usually  done  in  the  controversies  of  every-day  life.* 

It  is  usual  for  practical  devices  to  be  first  employed  in 
obvious  cases,  and  thence  transferred  to  other  cases  of  a  like 
nature,  but  of  more  complexity.  Thus,  in  the  great  institu- 
tion of  the  Division  of  Labour,  now  so  widely  ramified  over  all 
departments  of  industry,  there  could  be  traced  a  progressive 
application  :  we  should  find  it  commencing  in  manual 
industry,  and  in  the  separation  of  the  primitive  classes  of 
agriculturist,  artizan,  trader,  soldier,  and  priest ;  and  thence, 
in  later  times  especially,  extended  into  the  warehouse  and 
the  manufactory,  into  public  business,  and  into  scientific 
research.  In  every  new  step,  there  would  arise,  in  the  mind 
of  some  one  person  or  other,  a  feeling  of  similarity  between 
the  exigencies  of  a  work  in  hand  and  the  cases  where  the 
method  of  divided  laboar  was  already  in  operation  ;  and  this 
identification  would  suggest  the  further  extension  of  the 
practice.  I  do  not  at  present  speak  of  the  faculty  required 
for  overcoming  the  difficulties  of  detail  in  all  new  applica- 
tions of  old  machinery  (although  here  too  it  would  be  found, 

*  The  system  of  separating  the  law  and  the  facts,  in  legal  pleadings,  did 
not  arise  as  I  suppose  in  the  text,  and  as  might  have  been  the  origin,  from 
an  application  of  the  scholastic  logic,  but  from  our  Saxon  institution  of  trial 
by  jury,  where  the  facts  were  decided  on  by  the  jurors,  and  the  law  declared 
by  the  judge.  Nevertheless,  the  illustration  answers  our  purpose,  even  in  its 
hypothetical  character. 


EXTENSION    OF    ADMINISTEATIVE    ARTS.  557 

that  a  fertile  power  of  recalling  identities  in  diversity  would 
be  the  principal  instrument  of  success,  in  so  far  as  the 
intellect  was  concerned),  but  confine  myself  to  the  suggestion 
of  a  device  taken  from  some  parallel  case. 

In  the  progress  of  free  governments,  there  has  been 
gradually  diffused,  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  and  more 
difticiilt  posts,  the  principle  of  responsibility  as  a  check  upon 
the  abuse  of  power.  This  practice  grew  up  by  a  progress 
of  extension,  until,  m  the  constitutional  governments  of 
Europe  and  America,  it  came  to  include  every  executive 
officer  in  all  departments  of  State.  The  experience  of 
the  practice,  with  the  more  humble  functionaries,  suggested 
its  application  to  the  exactly  parallel  case  of  superior  officers  ; 
and,  after  much  struggle,  not  of  an  intellectual  kind,  it  got  to 
be  introduced  into  modern  free  communities,  as  it  had  been 
in  the  constitution  of  ancient  Athens. 

It  was  discovered  very  early  in  the  practice  of  societies, 
that  the  only  method  of  attaining  the  truth  in  legal  disputes 
was  to  hear  both  sides  alike.  This  maxim,  by  successive 
assimilation,  has  found  its  way  into  every  department  where 
human  interest  and  opinions  come  into  conflict. 

The  principle  of  not  interfering  with  individual  tastes 
and  sentiments,  except  in  so  far  as  these  affect  the  legitimate 
happiness  of  others,  is  recognized  in  certain  cases,  and  has 
had  a  tendency  to  expand  itself  by  assimilation  into  cases 
encumbered  with  obstructive  circumstances.  Hence,  has 
sprung  up  what  amount  of  toleration  in  belief  and  in  conduct 
we  now  possess ;  although  the  difficulty  in  proceeding  far 
with  this  extension,  shows  how  effectually  the  love  of  domi- 
nation and  of  uniformity  may  stifle  the  assimilating  action  of 
the  intellect. 

In  the  suggestions  of  a  practical  mind,  the  identification 
should  always  turn  upon  the  relevant  circumstances,  and 
overcome  other  attractions  of  sameness  on  irrelevant  points. 
To  attain  to  tiiis  characteristic  is  the  end  of  a  practical 
education,  which  makes  the  person  familiar  with  the  aspects 
that  serve  the  ends  contemplated.    Thus,  a  lawyer,  in  recover- 


558  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

ing,  from  his  past  experience,  the  precedents  and  analogies 
suitable  to  a  case  in  hand,  is  impelled  by  the  force  of  simi- 
larity working  in  his  mind ;  but,  of  the  many  peculiarities  of 
the  case,  he  excludes  the  assimilating  action  of  all  except  the 
one  that  would  govern  its  decision  before  a  judge.  His 
education  must  serve  him  in  making  this  discrimination  ; 
and  if  (as  may  happen)  he  is  by  natural  temperament  keenly 
alive  to  this  one  feature  constituting  legal  relevancy,  and 
indifferent  to  all  other  points  of  interest  in  the  case,  he  is  a 
born  lawyer, — ^just  as  Newton,  with  his  natural  avidity  for 
mathematical  relations  and  indifference  to  sensuous  and 
poetic  effects,  was  a  born  natural  philosopher  ;  or  Milton, 
by  the  opposite  character,  was  a  born  poet.  That  nature 
should  chance  to  turn  out  a  legal  mind  is  not  singular  or 
surprising,  for  it  is  only  a  variety  of  the  scientific  or  logical 
intellect,  using  verbal  forms  as  the  instrument,  and  implying 
an  obtuseness  to  all  the  more  popular  and  interesting  features 
of  human  life.  To  secure  a  rigorous  uniformity  in  dealing 
with  disputes,  scientific  definitions  must  be  made,  and 
equally  applied  to  the  most  diversified  cases. 

40.  The  last  form  of  practical  ability  that  I  shall  here 
advert  to  is  persuasion.  This  implies  that  some  course  of 
conduct  shall  be  so  described,  or  expressed,  as  to  coincide,  or 
be  identified,  with  the  active  impulses  of  the  individuals 
addressed,  and  thereby  command  their  adoption  of  it  by  the 
force  of  their  own  natural  dispositions.  A  leader  of  banditti 
has  to  deal  with  a  class  of  persons  whose  ruling  impulse  is 
plunder  ;  and  it  becomes  his  business  to  show  them  that  any 
scheme  proposed  by  him  will  lead  to  this  end.  A  people  with 
an  intense  overpowering  patriotism,  as  the  old  Eomans,  can 
be  acted  on  by  proving  that  the  interests  of  country  are  at 
stake.  The  fertile  oratorical  mind  is  one  that  can  identify  a 
case  in  hand  with  a  great  number  of  the  strongest  beliefs  of 
an  audience ;  and,  more  especially,  with  those  that  seem,  at 
first  sight,  to  have  no  connexion  with  the  point  to  be  carried. 
The  discovery  of  identity  in  diversity  is  never  more  called 
for,  than  in  the  attempts  to  move  men  to  adopt  some  un- 


THE    MEANS    OF   PERSUASION.  559 

wonted  course  of  proceeding.  When  a  new  reform  is  intro- 
duced in  the  state,  it  is  usually  thought  necessary  (at  least  in 
England)  to  reconcile  and  identify  it  in  many  ways  with  the 
ancient  venerated  constitution,  or  with  prevailing  maxims 
and  modes  of  feeling,  with  which  it  might  seem  at  variance. 
To  be  a  persuasive  speaker,  it  is  necessary  to  have  vividly 
present  to  the  view  all  the  leading  impulses  and  convictions 
of  the  persons  addressed,  and  to  be  ready  to  catch  at  every 
point  of  identity  between  these  and  the  propositions  or 
projects  suggested  for  their  adoption.  The  first-named  quali- 
lication  grows  out  of  the  experience  and  study  of  character  ; 
the  other  is  the  natural  force  of  Similarity,  which  has  often 
been  exemplified  in  its  highest  range  in  oratorical  minds. 
In  the  speeches  of  Burke,  we  see  it  working  with  remarkable 
vigour.  Perhaps  the  most  striking  instance  of  this  fertility 
of  identification  for  persuasive  ends  is  exhibited  in  Milton's 
Defence  of  Unlicensed  Printing.  Of  the  class  of  preachers, 
Barrow  is  especially  copious  in  his  command  of  topics  of 
persuasion  and  inducement  towards  the  performance  of  re- 
ligious and  moral  duties  :  in  him,  no  less  than  in  Milton,  we 
have  everywhere  the  tokens  of  an  identifying  mind  of  the 
highest  order. 

ILLUSTRATIVE  COMPARISONS  AND  LITERARY  ART. 

41.  When  two  remote  phenomena  are  brought  into  com- 
parison by  a  flash  of  similarity,  they  may  turn  out  to  be 
repetitions  of  the  same  natural  agent  working  in  different 
situations, — as  in  the  great  examples  of  lightning  and  the 
electrical  discharge,  the  fall  of  a  stone  and  the  moon's  gravi- 
tation to  the  earth.  The  comparison  in  these  cases  is  real, 
literal,  or  substantial.  It  is  illustrative  and  instructive  in 
no  ordinary  degree  ;  but  it  is  more  than  an  illustration, — it 
is  a  scientific  discovery  :  the  two  things  identified  are  so 
thoroughly  of  a  piece,  that  we  can  go  all  lengths  in  reason- 
ing from  the  one  to  the  other.  There  is,  however,  also  an 
extensive  and  useful  class  of  comparisons  where  real  identity 


560  AGREEMENT— LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

is  wanting  ;  the  likeness  being  yet  sufficient  to  justify  us  in 
interpreting  the  more  obscure  and  remote  by  the  more  intel- 
hgible  and  famiHar  of  the  two  ;  as  when,  in  speaking  of  the 
action  of  supply  and  demand  in  commerce,  we  say  that 
these  are  constantly  finding  their  level.  Here,  the  subjects 
compared  are  quite  different  in  their  nature  ;  the  one  belong- 
ing to  the  province  of  mind,  and  somewhat  obscure,  while 
the  other  is  a  physical  phenomenon  of  a  very  palpable  and 
intelligible  sort.  Illustration  after  this  fashion  is  one  of  our 
devices  for  representing  to  the  mind  what  is  either  naturally 
obscure,  or  accidentally  concealed  from  the  view.  If  we  can 
only  see  enough  of  the  object  to  suggest  an  appropriate 
comparison,  we  make  use  of  that  to  supply  the  rest.  The 
force  of  similarity  has  extensive  scope  in  this  department  of 
discovery. 

Illustration  is  particularly  wanted  to  convey  scientific 
notions  and  abstractions.  These  are  often  so  artificial  and 
abstruse,  that  an  ordinary  mind  has  great  difficulty  in  seizing 
them.  Such  abstruse  physical  phenomena  as  the  molecular 
constitution  of  matter,  polarity,  chemical  affinity,  the  ethereal 
undulations  supposed  to  constitute  light  and  heat,  the  growth 
of  cells  in  living  bodies, — demand  to  be  expressed  by  com- 
parisons drawn  from  theseen  and  palpable.  Human  actions, 
feelings,  and  thoughts,  are  often  so  concealed  in  their  work- 
ings, that  they  cannot  be  represented  without  the  assistance 
of  material  objects  used  as  comparisons  :  hence,  the  great 
abundance  of  the  resemblances  struck  between  matter  and 
mind.  AVe  speak  of  a  clear  head,  a  warm  heart,  a  torrent  of 
passion,  a  poet's  fire.  The  comparisons  brought  to  bear  upon 
the  complexities  of  social  life  are  likewise  very  numerous  ; 
in  fact,  there  are  many  social  phenomena  that  we  never  con- 
ceive otherwise  than  in  some  species  of  material  analogy. 
If  we  take,  for  example,  the  different  ideas  connected  with 
social  order  and  disorder,  we  find  the  language  almost  wholly 
derived  from  other  things  ;  scarcely  a  phrase  is  literal,  all  is 
metaphorical.  '  The  vessel  of  the  state  weathers  the  storm, or 
is  in  danger  of  wreck  ';  anarchy  is  described  as  '  chaos,'  '  con- 


COMPAEISONS    FOR    ILLUSTRATION.  561 

fusion  ';  the  government  is  said  to  be  '  shaken,'  or  '  stable,* 
or  '  tottering  ';  law  is  '  erected,'  '  overthrown'.     We  speak  of 
the  '  life'  and  '  growth"  of  society  ;  when  we  conceive  of  pro- 
gress, it   is  generally  in  a  figure, — we  call  it  '  movement,' 
'development,'  'enlightenment,'  and  so  forth. 

Of  all  existing  compositions,  the  writings  of  Lord  Bacon 
are  perhaps  the  richest  in  illustrative  comparisons  of  the 
kind  now  under  discussion  ;  not  being  scientific  identities, 
and  yet  serving  in  an  eminent  degree  the  purpose  of  assisting 
the  popular  intellect  to  embrace  difficult  notions.  In  virtue 
of  this  surprising  power.  Bacon's  doctrines  become  clothed  in 
'  winged  words'.  According  to  him,  science  is  the  '  interpre- 
tation' of  nature — -a  comparison  that  transfixes  the  mind  with 
the  idea  of  observing,  recording,  and  explaining  the  facts  of 
the  world.  Final  causes,  he  says,  are  '  vestal  virgins ' — they 
bear  no  fruit.  But  for  the  simile,  it  is  doubtful  if  this  notion 
would  have  stuck  in  men's  minds,  and  been  the  subject  of 
keen  controversy,  in  the  way  that  we  have  seen.  His  classi- 
fication of  '  Instances,'  or  forms  of  experiment  and  proof,  is 
wholl}'  embedded  in  strong  metaphors  :  the  'experimentum 
crucis,'  the  finger-post  between  two  ways,  has  been  adopted 
in  our  logical  nomenclature.  Fallacies,  or  modes  of  mental 
bias,  are  with  him  '  idols  '  {eidola,  false  appearances) — of  the 
'  tribe,'  of  the  '  den,'  of  the  '  market-place,'  of  the  '  theatre  '. 

A  remarkably  powerful  identifying  intellect,  embrac- 
ing the  concrete  facts  of  nature  and  human  life,  and  the 
history  and  literature  of  the  past,  is  implied  in  this  mode  of 
genius,  of  which  Bacon  is  the  highest  instance.  The  sus- 
ceptibility to  certain  classes  of  objects  and  impressions 
determines  the  particular  element  that  the  resuscitating 
faculty  must  work  in  ;  and,  in  some  men,  this  susceptibility  is 
to  the  concrete  in  general,  rather  than  to  the  select  and 
narrow  class  of  the  artistic  or  poetic  concrete.  Thus,  although 
Bacon's  imagery  sometimes  rises  to  poetry,  this  is  not  its 
usual  character  :  his  was  not  a  poetic  sense  of  nature,  but  a 
broad  general  susceptibility,  partaking  more  of  the  natural 
historian  than  of  the  poet  ;  by  which  all  the  objects  coming 

36 


562  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

before  his  view,  or  presented  to  his  imagination,  took  a  deep 
hold,  and,  by  the  help  of  his  intense  attraction  of  Similarity, 
were  recalled  on  the  slightest  resemblance.  Many  great 
writers  in  English  literature  have  had  this  strong  suscepti- 
bility to  the  sensible  world  at  large,  without  a  special  poetic 
sense  ;  while  some  have  had  the  poetic  feeling  superadded  : 
these  last  are  our  greatest  poets,  Chaucer,  Milton,  Shake- 
speare. 

42.  This  leads  me  to  notice  the  second  class  of  illustrative 
comparisons—those  serving  not  for  intellectual  comprehension, 
but  for  ornament,  effect,  or  emotion.  I  have  said  that  Bacon's 
■comparisons  rarely  grew  out  of  a  poetic  choice,  though,  from 
their  reach,  their  aptness,  and  their  occasional  picturesque- 
ness,  they  might  sometimes  be  quoted  as  a  kind  of  poetry. 
His  purpose  was  to  enlighten,  not  to  adorn.  But  similarity  is 
the  instrument  of  adding  ornament  and  force  to  compositions  : 
when  an  idea  or  picture  is  intended  to  kindle  emotion  of 
any  kind,  the  effect  can  always  be  heightened  by  adducing 
illustrative  comparisons  more  impressive  than  the  original. 
When  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  to  describe  the  moving  effect  of  the 
ballad  of  '  Chevy  Chase,'  says  that  it  stirs  the  heart  '  like  the 
sound  of  a  trumpet,'  he  enforces  a  weaker  impression  by  one 
much  stronger  as  well  as  more  familiar.  The  following  lines 
of  Chaucer  contain  two  exquisite  comparisons  for  enriching 
the  emotional  effect  of  the  subject — they  are  part  of  his 
■description  of  the  youthful  Squire  : — 

Embrowded  was  he,  as  it  were  a  mede, 
Alful  of  fresshe  flourts,  white  and  reede. 
Syngynge  he  was,  or  floytynge,  al  the  day  ; 
He  was  as  fressh  as  is  the  ynoneth  of  May. 

To  find  powerful  and  touching  comparisons  in  keeping 
with  a  subject,  is  one  of  the  constant  endeavours  of  the  poet, 
and  puts  his  genius  to  the  severest  test.  The  same  demand  is 
made  upon  the  orator, —who  has  besides  to  stir  up  the  emotions 
of  his  audience,  to  kindle  their  likings  and  dislikings  with 
the  view  of  moving  them  in  some  one  direction.     Hence,  in 


RHETORICAL   FIGURES    OF   COMPARISON.  563 

oratory  of  every  kind,  we  find  abundant  use  of  the  figures  of 
speech  growing  out  of  comparison.  In  panegyric,  elevating 
simihtudes  are  employed  ;  in  denunciation,  such  as  degrade. 
Derision  and  merriment  grow  out  of  low,  grovelling  compari- 
sons applied  to  things  pretending  to  be  dignified  and  vener- 
able. Burke's  French  Bevolutiou  teems  with  all  the  varieties 
of  eloquent  comparison.  His  '  trampling  law  and  order 
under  the  hoofs  of  the  swinish  multitude,'  will  be  ever 
memorable  among  the  figures  of  oratory. 

While  Shakespeare  displays  Bacon's  power  of  illumina- 
tive comparison,  especially  in  moral  maxims  and  common- 
places, he  shines  chiefly  in  the  other  class,  those  that 
heighten  the  emotional  effect ;  while  the  genius  of  both  the 
one  and  the  other  abounds  in  such  as  have  no  effect  what- 
ever but  intellectual  profusion.  With  extraordinary  suscep- 
tibility to  the  sensible  and  concrete  of  the  world,  to  the  full 
face  of  nature  and  life,  Shakespeare  had,  although  not  in  the 
highest  measure,  the  poetic  eclecticism,  and  dwelt  bj'  prefer- 
ence upon  the  objects  that  inspired  such  emotions  as  an 
artist  is  wont  to  kindle  up.  He  had,  perhaps,  the  greatest 
intellectual  reach  of  Similarity  on  the  whole  that  the  mind 
of  man  ever  attained  to ;  and  his  power  of  adducing  illus- 
trative similitudes,  through  chasms  of  remoteness  and  the 
thickest  disguises,  will  be  a  wonder  and  an  astonishment  to 
the  latest  posterity. 

43.  Of  the  Tropes  and  Figures  described  in  Rhetoric,  the 
larger  part  turn  upon  comparison.  The  metaphor,  the 
simile,  the  allegory — are  all  forms  of  illustration  by  similitude, 
sometimes  serving  for  clearness,  or  intellectual  comprehen- 
sion, at  other  times  producing  animation  and  effect.  The 
invention  of  them  is  due  to  the  identifying  intellect — which 
breaks  through  the  partition  caused  by  difference  of  subject, 
to  bring  together  what  is  similar.  The  literary  and  poetic 
genius  of  ages  has  accumulated  a  store  of  such  comparisons  ; 
many  of  them  have  passed  into  common  speech  to  enrich  the 
dialects  of  everyday  life.  No  man  has  ever  attained  rank  in 
literature,  without  possessing  in  some  degree  the  power  of 


564  AGEEEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

original  illustration  ;  and  the  interval  of  disparity  broken 
through  is  a  fair  measure  of  the  intellectual  force  of  the 
individual  mind  in  one  of  the  leading  characteristics  of  genius. 
The  original  fetches  of  Homer,  of  ^schylus,  of  Dante,  of 
Milton,  and,  above  all,  of  Shakespeare  (I  do  not  pretend  to 
exhaust  the  list  even  of  the  first-rate  minds),  are  prodigious. 
How  remote,  and  yet  how  grand,  the  simile  describing  the 
descent  of  Apollo  from  Olympus:  he  'came  like  night'. 
The  identifying  faculty,  be  it  never  so  strong,  would  hardly 
suftice  to  bring  together  things  so  widely  different,  but  for 
some  previous  preparation,  serving  to  approximate  the  nature 
of  the  two  things  in  the  first  instance,  as  we  have  already 
had  occasion  to  remark  of  some  of  the  scientific  discoveries. 
Night  itself  had  to  be  first  personified  to  a  certain  extent, 
thereby  reducing  the  immense  disparity  between  the  closing 
day  and  the  march  of  a  living  personage  down  the  mountain 
slopes.     Apollo  was,  besides,  the  god  of  the  sun. 

THE  FINE  ARTS  IN  GENERAL. 

44.  The  observations  now  made  respecting  Poetry  apply 
with  some  modification  to  the  Fine  Arts  generally.  In  the 
Arts,  we  may  trace  out  a  scale  or  arrangement,  beginning  at 
the  most  intellectual  and  ending  with  those  that  have  this 
quality  in  the  lowest  degree.  At  one  end  of  the  scale,  we 
find  distinct  examples  of  the  purely  intellectual  law  of  simi- 
larity ;  at  the  other  end,  scarcely  a  trace  of  this  operation 
appears  in  the  form  that  we  have  been  accustomed  to. 
Poetry,  Painting,  Sculpture,  Architecture,  Decoration,  and 
Design,  are  all  conversant  with  some  of  the  higher  intel- 
lectual elements  :  Poetry  with  speech,  and  the  pictorial  as 
represented  by  speech,  the  others  with  visual  forms  and 
appearances  of  various  kinds.  In  storing  up,  and  on  fit  occa- 
sions reproducing  the  materials  of  those  arts,  the  associating 
forces  of  Contiguity  and  Similarit}^  are  extensively  brought 
into  play.  As  to  Contiguity,  this  is  obvious  enough  ;  as 
regards  Similarity,  it  may  be  easily  shown.  A  painter  in 
composing  a  picture  must,  in   the   last  resort,  choose   the 


THE    INTELLECTUAL    FINE    ARTS.  565 

component  parts,  according  to  their  artistic  keeping  with  one 
another  :  but,  in  recalHng  from  the  past  a  number  of  objects, 
in  order  to  try  their  effect,  he  will  be  greatly  assisted  by  a 
powerful  identifying  faculty.  We  may  suppose  him  to  have 
in  his  mind  some  one  plan  of  a  background, — which  back- 
ground, however,  although  containing  the  main  features, 
does  not  satisfy  his  artistic  sense.  By  the  attraction  of 
likeness,  this  part,  unsuitable  in  itself,  may  recall  others 
resembling  and  yet  greatly  differing,  and,  in  the  array  brought 
up  by  a  powerful  intellect,  working  upon  a  large  foregone 
experience,  some  one  may  be  presented  answering  the  re- 
quirements of  the  picture.  There  may  be  nothing  artistic  in 
the  suggestion  of  the  different  views  ;  nevertheless,  it  is  only 
an  artist  that  can  make  the  proper  choice.  As  in  poetry,  so 
in  painting,  in  sculpture,  in  architecture,  decoration,  and 
design,  there  may  be  a  rich  intellectual  storage  and  repro- 
duction of  the  material,  apart  from  the  aesthetic  feeling ; 
although,  by  this  feeling,  the  artist  must  be  guided  in  the 
use  that  he  makes  of  the  suggestions  of  the  intellect.  In  all 
the  Arts,  examples  may  be  found  of  rich  profusion  of  unse- 
lected  matter  ;  the  artist  mistaking  a  strong  recollection  and 
revival  of  natural  scenery  and  pictorial  elements  in  general 
for  the  artistic  harmonizing  of  the  material ;  still,  in  the  de- 
partments we  are  now  discussing,  no  one  can  attain  the 
highest  greatness  without  some  intellectual  source  of  sugges- 
tions over  and  above  his  artistic  faculty.  The  intervention 
of  high  intellect  in  Art  seems  to  have  reached  a  climax  in 
Michael  Angelo ;  and  the  limits  of  human  nature  forbid  us' 
to  suppose,  that  he  could  at  the  same  time  exert  the  power 
of  delicately  adjusting  the  parts  of  his  compositions,  so  as  to 
yield  the  graces  and  charms  that  constitute  the  true  distinc- 
tion, the  essence,  of  Art. 

45.  When  we  pass  to  the  second  class  of  Arts,  we  find 
intellect  dying  away  and  giving  place  to  the  genuine  artistic 
stimulus  in  its  purity.  Music  is  the  most  conspicuous  mem- 
ber of  the  group,  and  might  be  taken  as  representing  the 
whole  :  the  others  are,  spoken  music  or  Eloquence,  Dramatic 


566  AGREEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

action  and  Pantomime,  the  graces  of  personal  Demeanour  and 
displaj',  and  the  Dance.  In  these  Arts,  the  suggestions  of 
intellectual  similarity  can  hardly  be  said  to  occur.  Undoubt- 
edly, we  may  by  similarity,  as  already  said,  identify  a  common 
character  in  different  airs  and  harmonies  ;  and,  through  the 
presence  of  any  one,  others  may  be  recalled  to  the  mind  of  a 
composer,  and  may  serve  him  as  hints  and  aids  in  a  new 
composition.  In  such  circumstances,  I  can  conceive  the 
operation  of  a  vigorous  identifying  faculty  as  enlarging  a 
musician's  resources,  or  as  making  more  readily  available  to 
him  the  examples  that  have  previously  impressed  themselves 
on  his  mind.  But  this  process  of  imitating  and  compiling 
does  not  fairly  exemplify  the  workings  of  artistic  creativeness. 
The  author  of  a  truly  original  melody  relies  upon  no  such 
intellectual  assistance.  By  the  spontaneous  gushings  of  his 
mind  he  flows  out  into  song,  and  by  the  guidance  of  a  delicate 
sense  he  tunes  himself  to  melody.  Other  men  may  imitate 
and  combine  such  primitive  originals  in  a  variety  of  compo- 
sitions, but  the  knowing  ear  can  always  detect  the  work  of 
compilation.  Intellect  may  originate  Science,  but  not  Art. 
There  is  also  the  case  of  strictly  imitative  music — as  when 
Haydn,  in  the  '  Creation,'  tries  to  reproduce  all  the  sounds 
of  nature.  But  no  good  judge  ever  puts  music  of  this  kind 
high . 

I  may  here  refer  to  what  is  a  common  subject  of  remark, 
that  great  musicians  and  actors,  not  to  speak  of  opera  dancers, 
have  often  a  verj^  low  order  of  intellect,  as  measured  by  the 
ordinary  tests.  So,  in  the  charms  and  graces  of  society, 
which  are  a  species  of  fine  art,  intellect  may  contribute 
nothing.  On  the  other  hand,  in  assisting  the  less  gifted 
temperaments  to  take  on  the  charm  native  to  the  others,  it 
may  operate  with  good  effect ;  for  this  is  done  by  acquisition 
and  compilation,  where  the  intellectual  forces  always  work  to 
advantage.  Moreover,  in  Art,  effects  can  often  be  reduced  to 
rule,  and  the  comprehending  and  following  out  of  rules  is  an 
affair  of  the  intelligence.  In  musical  compositions,  there  are 
rules  as  to  harmony,  which  any  one  might  act  upon  ;  in  elo- 


ACQUISITION    BY    PIECING    PREVIOUS    ATTAINMENTS.         567 

cution,  much  can  be  done  by  merely  understanding  the  direc- 
tions of  an  instructor ;  and,  to  stupidity,  all  such  directions 
are  nugatory.  Thus  it  is  that,  in  the  diffusion  and  extension 
of  the  least  intellectual  of  the  fine  arts,  recourse  may  be 
had  to  an  instrumentality  that  would  never  suffice  for  their 
creation.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  in  history,  that  the  most 
highly  gifted  people  of  antiquity,  in  all  that  regarded  pure 
intelligence,  had  apparentlj'  no  originality  in  music,  although 
they  could  appreciate  and  borrow  the  melodies  of  foreign 
nations,  and  employ  these  to  accompany  their  lyric  and 
dramatic  compositions. 

SIMILARITY   IN   ACQUISITION   AND   MEMORY. 

46.  It  now  remains  to  show  how  the  force  of  reinstate- 
ment by  Similarity  can  operate  in  carrying  forward  the  work 
of  Acquisition.  We  have  seen  that  the  associating  principle 
of  Contiguity  must  needs  be  the  groundwork  of  Acquisition 
in  general ;  but  when  any  new  train  can  bring  up,  from  the 
past,  some  nearly  similar  train,  the  labour  of  a  separate 
acquirement  is  thereby  saved  :  the  points  of  difference  be- 
tween the  new  and  the  old,  are  all  that  is  left  for  Contiguity 
to  engraft  on  the  mental  system.  When  a  workman  is  to 
be  taught  a  new  operation  in  his  art,  there  will  necessarily 
be,  along  with  certain  matters  of  novelty,  a  large  amount  of 
identity  with  his  already  acquired  habits  ;  hence,  in  order  to 
conquer  the  operation,  he  will  require  to  repeat  it  just  as  often 
as  will  suffice  for  fixing,  by  the  plastic  operation  of  Conti- 
guity, all  those  original  steps  and  combinations.  A  professed 
dancer  learning  a  new  dance,  is  in  a  very  different  predica- 
ment from  a  beginner  in  the  art.  A  musician  learning  a  new 
piece,  actually  finds  that  nineteen-twentieths  of  all  the 
sequences  to  be  acquired  have  been  already  formed  through 
his  previous  education.  A  naturalist  reads  the  description  of 
a  newly  discovered  animal :  he  possesses  already,  in  his 
mind,  the  characters  of  the  known  animals  most  nearly 
approaching  to  it  ;  and,  if  he  merely  give  sufficient  time  and 
attention  for  the  coherence  of  the  points  that  are  absolutely 


568  AGREEMENT— LAW    OF    SIMILARITY.  • 

new  to  him,  he  carries  away  and  retains  the  whole.  The 
judge,  in  listening  to  a  law-pleading,  hears  little  that  is 
absolutely  new ;  if  he  keeps  that  little  in  his  memory,  he 
stores  up  the  whole  case.  When  we  read  a  book  on  a  subject 
already  familiar  to  us,  we  can  reproduce  the  entire  work,  at 
the  expense  of  labour  requisite  to  remember  the  additions  it 
makes  to  our  previous  stock  of  knowledge.  So  in  Fine  Art ; 
an  architect,  a  painter,  or  a  poet,  can  easily  carry  away  with 
him,  the  total  impression  of  a  building,  a  picture,  or  a  poem  ; 
for,  instead  of  being  acquisitions  de  novo,  they  are  merely 
variations  of  effects  already  engrained  in  the  artist's  re- 
collection. 

To  whatever  extent  one  thing  is  the  repetition  of  another, 
the  cost  of  contiguous  acquisition  is  saved.  But  it  is  neces- 
sary that  the  repetition  or  identity  should  be  perceived ;  in 
other  words,  the  new  lesson  must  reinstate,  by  the  force  of 
Similarity,  all  the  previous  trains  that  in  any  way  correspond 
with  it.  An  old  acquirement  containing  many  steps  in  com- 
mon with  a  lesson  in  hand,  will  be  of  no  use  unless  it  is 
recalled ;  should  the  disagreeing  points  be  so  marked,  as  to 
cloud  a  resemblance  and  stifle  the  identifying  action,  no- 
thing is  gained  by  the  agreement.  It  consequently  happens, 
that  a  mind,  feeble  as  regards  the  restoring  force  of  similarity, 
misses  the  help  that  past  acquirements  could  often  bring  to 
bear  upon  present  efforts ;  whereas  a  remarkable  energy 
of  recall  will  make  everything  available  that  contains  the 
smallest  trace  of  common  matter. 

47.  To  take  a  few  examples  from  Science.  The  subject- 
matter  of  Geometry  embodies  a  few  fundamental  notions  and 
processes.  A  definition,  an  axiom,  a  postulate,  a  proposition, 
whether  theorem  or  problem,  a  chain  of  demonstration,  are  to 
the  beginner  things  absolutely  new.  They  must  be  fixed  by 
the  plastic  power  of  Contiguity,  and  time  and  concentration 
must  be  allowed  for  the  purpose.  But,  in  a  good  head,  one 
or  two  examples  of  each,  strongly  imprinted,  will  make  all  the 
rest  easy  :  the  method  or  character  of  the  devices  will  be  seen 
through  and  acquired,  and,  in  every  new  case,  the  mind  will 


ACQUISITION    IN    SCIENCE    SHORTENED.  569 

fall  back  upon  the  old  ones,  for  the  common  element,  and 
concentrate  attention  on  the  points  of  difference  solely. 
When,  after  going  over  a  few  definitions,  the  learner  is  im- 
pressed with  the  form  and  peculiarity  of  a  definition,  there  is 
little  to  acquire  in  the  rest :  a  slight  substitution  serves  to 
make  a  new  one  out  of  an  old  ;  the  definition  of  a  square  is 
easily  changed  to  suit  a  rectangle.  So  with  an  axiom  :  the 
first  is  the  most  laborious  to  acquire  ;  every  subsequent  one 
is  easier  than  the  preceding.  When  we  come  to  the  proposi- 
tions, there  is  a  very  great  deal  of  novelty  at  first ;  the  whole 
scheme  and  management  of  a  theorem  or  problem — the  for- 
mality in  the  statement,  and  in  the  order  of  the  proof — are 
things  utterly  strange  to  the  young  beginner ;  to  acquire  a 
simple  proposition  is  a  heavy  strain  upon  his  adhesiveness 
for  abstract  and  representative  forms.  When  this  last  acqui- 
sition is  made,  it  can  be  turned  to  account  in  every  succeeding 
proposition,  provided  the  operation  of  similarity  is  not  ob- 
structed by  the  differences  that  encumber  the  new  cases. 
Indeed,  if  each  step  in  the  machinery  of  Geometry  were, 
without  much  waste  of  time,  firmly  learned  on  the  first 
•encounter,  and  if  the  reviving  power  of  similarity  for  this 
class  of  things  vv^ere  unfailing,  one's  progress  through  Euclid 
would  be  a  race,  such  as  is  recorded  of  Pascal  and  Newton. 
But,  to  the  generality  of  minds,  identities  in  geometrical 
reasoning  are  hard  to  perceive ;  a  difference  in  collaterals 
utterly  extinguishes  the  feeling  of  a  similarity  in  substance, 
and  every  new  proposition  is  a  fresh  labour — as  if  nothing  like 
it  had  been  gone  through  before. 

What  is  true  of  Greometry  holds  in  all  the  sciences.  There 
is,  in  each,  a  vast  deal  of  repetition  both  of  the  facts,  or 
subject-matter,  and  of  the  formal  machinery,  although  'with 
great  differences  of  mode  and  circumstance.  The  law  of 
gravitation  runs  through  all  Astronomy  ;  and,  in  the  deepest 
calculations  of  the  celestial  movements,  the  same  mathe- 
matical devices  are  constantly  reproduced  in  new  complica- 
tions. A  mind  that  can  seize  a  calculation  once  for  all,  and 
trace  it  out  in  the  thickest  envelope  of  diversity,  will  speedily 


570  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILARITY. 

pass  through  the  intricacies  of  this  vast  subject,  or  of  any- 
abstract  science.  With  such  a  reach  of  similarity  as  can 
suffice  to  trace  out  identities  hitherto  passed  over  by  all 
former  minds  working  in  the  same  sphere,  it  is  to  be  presumed 
that  the  more  ordinary  resemblances  will  be  easy  to  strike  ; 
hence  an  original  mind  in  science  is  also  distinguished  for  the 
rapidity  of  its  course  along  the  track  of  the  already  known. 
Much  of  the  acquisitions  of  a  strong  intellect  are  in  reality 
the  re-discovery  of  what  .is  already  known  ;  such  an  intellect 
perceives  the  identities  of  abstraction,  classification,  induction, 
deductive  application,  and  demonstrative  reasoning,  even 
before  they  are  pointed  out  by  the  master.  He  will  make 
but  a  poor  mathematician  that  needs  to  refer  to  his  book 
for  the  demonstration  of  every  successive  theorem.  To  all 
branches  of  Physics,  to  Chemistry  and  Physiology,  the 
very  same  remarks  will  apply.  It  is  the  nature  of  an 
advanced  science,  to  contain  innumerable  identifications 
summed  up  in  its  definitions  and  general  laws ;  it  was  by  a 
vigorous  similarity  that  these  were  first  formed  ;  by  the  same 
power  they  are  rapidly  acquired. 

So  in  the  more  concrete  sciences  of  thie  "Natural  History 
group.  In  Zoology,  Botany,  Mineralogy,  Geology,  there  has 
been  accumulated  a  fund  of  identities  in  the  classifications 
made  of  the  objects  of  each.  To  acquire  these  classifications, 
the  learner  must  himself  feel  the  similarity  among  the  indi- 
viduals ;  and,  if  his  mind  is  of  that  powerful  kind  that  can 
trace  many  of  the  likenesses  by  its  own  unassisted  force,  he 
will  speedily  string  together  all  the  groups  that  have  been 
formed  by  others.  It  is  of  consequence  to  a  botanist,  looking 
at  a  new  plant,  that  he  shall  be  able  to  recall  at  once  what- 
ever other  plants  he  has  known  that  in  any  points  resemble 
it :  he  will,  in  this  way,  both  determine  its  true  class,  and 
stamp  it  with  ease  upon  his  memory. 

48.  In  all  the  acquisitions  of  Business,  Similarity  will 
likewise  bear  an  important  part.  If  an  apprentice  at  the 
Law  has  that  deep  and  subtle  identifying  power  that  sees,  in 
every  new  case,  whatever  similarity  there  is  in  it  to  some 


ARTISTIC   ACQUISITIONS    SHORTENED.  571 

previous  one,  he  saves  half  his  labour ;  his  mind  breaks  in 
upon  the  old  track,  and  on  that  builds  up  the  new  recollec- 
tion to  the  extent  of  the  likeness.  It  is  possible  to  lay  under 
contribution  in  this  way  matters  far  removed  from  the 
subject  in  hand  :  one  may  clench  the  technicalities  of  the  law, 
by  falling  back  upon  one's  miscellaneous  knowledge ;  we  may 
recur  to  recollections  out  of  all  sciences  and  arts,  illustrating 
the  subject  as  it  were  to  one's  self.  The  mind  of  Lord  Bacon 
could  see  in  anything  before  him  multifarious  analogies  to 
things  the  most  remote  ;  these  analogies  he  could  produce  to 
his  readers  to  facilitate  their  conception  of  his  meaning,  and, 
by  the  same  power,  he  could  shorten  his  own  labour  and 
study.  When  a  clever  person  surprises  us,  by  instantaneously 
comprehending  and  firmly  retaining  some  new  method  of 
procedure,  we  may  be  quite  sure  that  it  has  taken  hold  of 
him,  by  resuscitating  something  analogous  out  of  the  store- 
houses of  bis  past  experience :  whenever  this  easy  compre- 
hension, and  this  permanent  retention,  form  part  of  the 
mental  character,  and  show  themselves  in  a  wide  range  of 
subjects,  there  is  sure  to  be  at  bottom  a  vigorous  identifying 
faculty. 

49.  The  case  of  the  Artistic  mind  presents  no  essential 
difference.  The  storing  up  of  impressions  of  objects  of  art  is 
easiest  when  the  identifying  power  is  so  strong  as  to  bring 
up,  on  every  occasion,  whatever  resembles  the  object  before 
the  view.  That  a  likeness  should  exist  between  something 
we  are  at  present  looking  at,  or  listening  to,  and  some  past 
impressions  on  the  eye  or  the  ear,  and  that  that  likeness 
should  not  be  felt,  is  a  misfortune,  a  loss  in  every  way  ;  and, 
for  this  reason,  among  others,  that,  to  impress  the  new  object 
on  the  memory,  we  need  as  much  repetition  and  pains,  as  if 
nothing  of  the  kind  had  ever  been  experienced  before.  In 
reading  a  poem,  the  memory  is  assisted  to  remember  it  by  all 
the  similarities  of  thought,  of  imagery,  of  language,  of  metre 
and  rhythm,  that  one  is  able  to  evoke  from  the  traces  of 
former  readings  and  recollections.  In  a  mind  keenly  sus- 
ceptible to  all  these  poetic  elements,  and  having  the  power 


572  AGEEEMENT — LAW   OF    SIMILAEITY. 

of  similarity  highly  manifested,  almost  every  touch  will 
rouse  up  something  from  the  past  that  has  a  certain  degree 
of  resemblance  ;  and  that  something  will  be  an  already  formed 
recollection,  to  eke  out  the  retentiveness  of  the  new  strain. 
The  more  one's  acquisitions  advance,  the  greater  the  scope  for 
this  work  of  fitting  old  cloth  into  new  garments;  but  previous 
acquisition  is  of  avail,  only  according  as  the  stroke  of  resusci- 
tation is  good,  and  is  able  to  pierce  the  disguises  of  diversity 
and  altered  form  attaching  to  past  examples. 

50.  The  retentive  power  of  the  mind  is  not  thoroughly 
tested,  except  by  entire  and  absolute  novelty — a  thing  that 
is  more  and  more  rare  as  one  grows  older.  In  learning 
languages,  for  example,  we  have  less  to  acquire  with  every 
new  individual  language.  Latin  prepares  for  French,  Italian, 
Spanish,  etc. ;  German  for  Dutch  ;  Sanscrit  for  Hindostanee. 
The  generalizations  of  philologists  in  tracing  common  roots 
through  all  the  Indo-European  tongues,  greatly  diminish  the 
number  of  original  ties  that  contiguity  has  to  fix.  All  dis- 
coveries of  generalization  have  this  effect ;  and  if  an  individual 
learner  can  see  likenesses,  m  addition  to  what  have  been 
already  promulgated,  his  labour  is  shortened  by  strokes  of 
power  peculiar  to  himself. 

The  learner  of  the  Latin  rudiments  on  entering  the  four 
conjugations  of  the  verb  soon  discovers,  in  passing  from  one 
conjugation  to  another,  that  there  is  far  more  similarity  than 
difference.  Making  use  of  this  observation  as  a  means  of 
shortening  his  labour,  he  has  merely  to  take  note  of  the 
specialities  of  each  separate  conjugation,  and,  when  he  has 
mastered  these,  his  task  is  completed. 

51.  The  Historical  Memory  might  furnish  good  examples 
of  the  intervention  of  Similarity,  in  making  up  the  coherent 
tissue  of  recollected  events.  In  the  transactions  of  the  world, 
great  and  small,  there  is  so  much  of  repetition,  that  a  new 
history  is  in  reality  a  various  reading  of  some  old  one ;  not  to 
mention  how  much  each  nation  repeats  itself  through  its 
successive  epochs.  To  a  dull  mind,  a  large  amount  of  this 
repetition  is  lost  for  all  purposes,  the  aid  to  memory  among 


THE    HISTORICAL    MEMORY    AIDED.  573 

the  rest ;  but  a  keen-sighted  attraction  for  every  vestige  of 
recurring  hkeness  enables  one  to  retain  large  masses  of 
narrative,  at  a  small  expense  of  adhesive  acquisition.  Cam- 
paign suggests  campaign,  and  one  battle  another ;  an  intrigue, 
a  negotiation,  a  career  of  ambition,  a  conquest,  a  revolution, 
are  things  familiar  to  the  student  gone  some  way  in  history ; 
only  certain  minor  features,  some  of  the  proportions  and  cir- 
cumstantials, are  special  to  the  case  in  hand,  and  require  to  be 
fixed  in  the  memory  by  pure  contiguity.  No  man  could  recite 
a  narrative  of  any  sort  from  a  single  reading  or  hearing,  if  it 
were  all  new  to  him  :  to  tell  a  story,  an  hour  after  hearing  it, 
would  be  impossible,  but  for  our  already  possessing,  among 
our  stored  recollections,  more  than  nine-tenths  of  all  the 
adhesions  that  enter  into  it. 

In  addition  to  the  historical  memory,  we  might  quote  the 
recollection  of  our  Past  Life,  which  depends  partly  upon 
contiguous  bonds  of  succession  in  time,  but  which  is  largely 
and  frequently  dependent  upon  strokes  of  Similarity.  Some 
present  incident  will  revive  former  incidents  of  a  like  charac- 
ter, at  whatever  times  they  may  have  occurred.  In  this 
way,  we  supply  the  numerous  hiatuses  that  would  be  left  if 
we  were  dependent  entirely  upon  the  chronology  of  dates  as 
held  together  by  mere  contiguity. 

A  startling  example  under  this  head  may  be  quoted  from 
the  play  of  '  Hamlet,'  at  the  point  where  Hamlet  arranges  a 
theatrical  scene  to  bring  home  to  his  guilty  uncle's  mind 
with  terrific  force  the  circumstances  of  his  father's  murder. 

CONCLUDING  OBSERVATIONS. 

52.  The  following  general  observations  will  complete  the 
copiously  detailed  survey  that  has  been  given  of  this  very 
large  portion  of  our  intellectual  workings. 

The  faculties  implicated  in  the  operation  of  similarity 
have  been  brought  out  in  the  course  of  the  exposition. 
Everything  pertaining  to  tne  Eeasoning  power  essentially 
demands  the  identification  of  like  in  the  midst  of  unlike.    This 


574  AGEEEMEXT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

ouo;ht  now  to  be  distinctly  apparent.  Of  course  contiguous 
growths  are  very  largely  required  in  building  up  our  reason- 
ing powers  ;  but,  with  these  alone,  the  sweep  of  generalization 
that  reproduces  the  vastness  of  nature,  under  a  comparatively 
limited  range  of  notions  and  propositions,  would  have  been 
impracticable.  It  must  be  equally  obvious,  that  the  so-called 
power  of  Imagination,  which,  in  its  peculiar  sphere,  rivals  in 
amplitude  the  domain  of  reason,  would  be  bereft  of  all  its 
force  and  character,  but  for  the  workings  of  similarity  as 
developed  in  the  rarest  examples  of  its  endowment. 

53.  The  question  has  been  incidentally  started — whether 
there  be  a  power  of  General  Similarity,  apart  from  and 
above  those  local  endowments  that  have  been  assumed  to 
aid  its  workings,  and  to  constitute  individual  differences  in 
the  reach  that  it  attains.  It  was  a  much  easier  inquiry  to 
ascertain  the  existence  of  a  general  power  of  Contiguity, 
favoured  as  it  also  is  by  delicately  constituted  sense  endow- 
ments. The  difficulty  in  the  present  case  is,  that  in  a  stroke 
of  similarity  under  diversit}',  there  is  a  conflict  or  fight  of 
opposing  attractions.  Now,  a  supposed  augmentation  of 
the  power  in  general  would  tell  upon  all  the  items  of  the 
present  complex,  in  the  act  of  evoking  some  one  of  its  re- 
sembling aspects.  Thus,  if  it  were  a  question  of  revi\ang 
a  coincidence  in  verbal  form  under  diversity  of  meaning 
and  other  circmnstances,  the  increase  of  general  power 
would  operate,  not  upon  the  language  alone,  but  upon  the 
meanings  as  well,  so  as  to  strengthen  the  force  of  resistance 
to  the  verbal  recall.  Doubtless,  something  of  this  kind 
would  be  inevitable,  as  a  part  of  the  operation,  yet  without 
bringing  about  that  exactly  equal  contribution  to  all  the 
elements  of  the  complex  that  would  neutralize  the  benefit 
of  a  supposed  general  superiority  in  the  attraction  of  Simi- 
lars. 

54.  Considering  all  that  has  been  advanced  as  to  the 
bearing  and  importance  of  this  great  power,  we  are  in- 
terested in  knowing  how  far,  and  by  what  methods,  it  may 


POWER    OF    SIMILARITY    SCARCELY   IMPROVABLE.         575 

be  cultivated  or  improved.  Of  course,  looking  at  the  three 
local  conditions  that  have  been  kept  constantly  in  view, 
viz. — delicacy  of  sense,  previous  acquirement,  and  habit  of 
attention,  we  must  admit  the  possibility  of  improvement, 
inasmuch  as  all  these  peculiarities  are  within  the  sweep  of 
the  plastic  force  of  Contiguity.  As  regards  the  general 
power  just  adverted  to  as  outside  of  these,  if  its  existence 
be  problematical,  still  more  so  is  its  artificial  cultivation  or 
improvement.  Indeed,  there  is  something  of  a  paradox  in 
extending  the  process  of  strengthening  or  improving  any 
power  that  is  not  included  in  the  sweep  of  Eetentiveness  or 
Contiguit}'  as  already  defined.  It  is  safer  to  regard  the 
attractive  force  of  Similarity  in  diversity  as  a  natural  en- 
dowment per  se,  whose  variations  of  degree  in  the  same 
individual,  at  different  times  of  life  and  under  different 
circumstances,  are  probably  referable  to  some  one  or  more 
of  the  conditions  proper  to  the  plastic  or  contiguous  bond. 
There  is  a  common  saying  of  advanced  age  that,  though 
memory  begins  to  fade,  judgment  remains  good  and  even 
goes  on  improving.  This  vaguely  expresses  a  fact  that 
is  probably  true — namely,  that  while  plasticity  is  shown  to 
be  weaker  by  the  slowness  of  new  acquisitions,  the  flash  of 
similarity  between  the  new  and  the  old  is  as  ready  in  later 
years  as  in  early,  until  such  time  as  the  brain  itself  becomes 
abnormally  weak,  in  a  way  that  years  alone  would  not  suffice 
to  account  for.  It  has  been  noted,  in  some  remarkable  cases, 
that  the  freshness,  force,  and  opulence  of  imaginative  crea- 
tiveness  grows,  instead  of  diminishing,  with  the  advance  of 
years.  Bacon,  Milton,  and  Burke  are  conspicuous  instances 
in  point. 

The  art  of  Education,  in  its  full  compass,  comprises  the 
means  of  improving  powers  and  processes  implying  Simi- 
larity, no  less  than  Contiguity.  The  considerations,  how- 
ever, that  are  brought  to  bear  in  this  instance  have  reference 
mainly  to  the  modes  of  giving  fair  play  to  the  powers  generally, 
by  physical  aids,  and  the  removal  of  distraction,  obstruction. 


576  AGREEMENT — LAW    OF    SIMILARITY. 

and  the  various  causes  of  relaxed  attention.  The  teaching 
of  a  proposition  of  Euchd  would  exemplify  and  embrace  the 
artificial  assistance  to  the  reasoning  faculty  of  the  learner, 
just  as  instruction  in  language  would  give  scope  for  the 
devices  that  aid  the  memory. 


CHAPTEE   III. 
COMPOUND  ASSOCIATION. 

1.  TTITHERTO  we  have  restricted  our  attention  to  single 
i-L  threads  or  indivisible  links  of  association,  whether  of 
Contiguity  or  of  Similarity.  It  remains  for  us  to  consider  the 
case  where  several  threads,  or  a  plurality  of  links  or  bonds  of 
connexion,  unite  in  reviving  some  previous  thought  or  mental 
state.  No  new  principle  is  introduced  here:  we  have  merely 
to  note,  what  seems  an  almost  unavoidable  effect  of  the 
combined  action,  that  the  reinstatement  is  thereby  made  more 
easy  and  certain.  Associations  that  are  individually  too- 
weak  to  operate  the  revival  of  a  past  idea,  may  succeed  by 
acting  together ;  and  there  is  thus  opened  up  to  our  view  a- 
means  of  aiding  our  recollection,  or  invention,  when  the  one 
thread  in  hand  is  too  feeble  to  effect  a  desired  recall. 

The  combinations  may  be  made  up  of  contiguities  alone^ 
of  similarities  alone,  or  of  contiguity  and  similarity  mixed. 
Moreover,  we  shall  find  that,  in  Emotion  and  in  Volition, 
there  are  influences  either  assisting  or  obstructing  the  proper 
intellectual  forces.  In  the  reviving  of  a  past  image  or  idea, 
it  is  never  unimportant,  that  the  revival  gratifies  a  favourite 
emotion,  or  is  strongly  willed  in  the  pursuit  of  an  end.  We 
must  endeavour  to  appreciate,  as  far  as  we  are  able,  the 
influence  of  these  extra-intellectual  energies  within  the  sphere 
of  intellect  ;  but,  as  they  would  rarely  suffice  for  the  repro- 
duction of  thought,  if  acting  apart  and  alone,  we  are  led  to 
look  at  them  chiefly  as  modifying  the  effects  of  the  strictly 
intellectual  forces,  or  as  combining  elements  in  the  composi- 
tion of  associations. 

37 


v578  COMPOUND    ASSOCIATION. 

The  general  law  may  be  stated  as  follows  : — 

Past  actions,  sensations,  thoughts,  or  emotions,  are  re- 
called more  easily,  when  associated,  either  through 
contiguity  or  through  similarity,  with  more  than  one 
present  object  or  impression. 

COMPOSITION  OF  CONTIGUITIES. 

2.  We  begin  with  the  composition  of  contiguities.  In- 
stances might  be  cited  under  all  the  heads  of  the  first  chapter  ; 
but  a  less  profuse  selection  will  suffice.  There  will,  however, 
be  a  gain  in  clearness  by  taking  Conjunctions  and  Successions 
separately. 

Conjunctions. — For  a  simple  example  of  a  compound  con- 
junction, we  may  suppose  a  person  smelling  a  liquid,  and 
identifying  the  smell  as  something  perceived  before, but  unable 
to  recall  to  mind  the  material  causing  it.  Here,  the  bond 
between  an  odour  and  the  odorous  substance  is  too  feeble  for 
reproducing  the  idea  or  the  name  of  the  substance.  Suppose, 
further,  that  the  person  could  taste  the  liquid  without  smelling 
the  odour,  and  that,  in  the  taste,  he  could  recognize  a  former 
taste,  but  could  not  remember  the  thing.  If,  in  these  circum- 
stances, the  concurrence  of  the  two  present  sensations  of  taste 
and  smell  brought  the  substance  to  the  recollection,  we  should 
have  a  true  instance  of  composite  association.  If,  however, 
one  of  the  two  links  is  fully  equal  to  the  restoring  effect,  there 
is  no  case  under  the  present  law :  in  order  to  constitute  a 
proper  example,  each  should  be  insufficient  when  acting  singly. 
Although  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  fact  of  such 
revivals,  we  might  easily  suppose  it  otherwise.  Combination 
is  not  strength  under  all  circumstances.  A  gallon  of  water 
at  40^  cannot  yield  a  spoonful  at  41°.  Ten  thousand  common- 
place intellects  would  not  make  one  genius,  under  any  system 
of  co-operation.  The  multiplication  of  unaided  eyes  could 
never  equal  the  vision  of  one  person  with  a  telescope,  or 
a  microscope. 

The  case  of  obtaining  a  new  or  additional  link,  in  itself  suf- 


CONJUNCTIONS    COMBINED.  579 

ficiently  powerful  to  effect  the  recall,  is  frequent  enough.  Indeed, 
it  occurs  so  often  as  to  render  the  essential  position  of  composite 
contiguities  somewhat  difficult  to  establish.  Failing  to  recover 
a  name,  for  example,  in  connexion  with  an  object  or  a  person,  we 
may  direct  the  thoughts  into  some  other  train  where  it  is  placed 
and  can  occur  with  ease.  The  active  search  for  an  alternative 
linking  when  we  happen  to  be  nonplussed,  may  land  us  sometimes 
in  an  independently  sufficing  bond,  and  sometimes  in  a  mere  co- 
operating one.  The  general  fact  that  two  different  links,  each  in- 
sufficient of  itself,  may  succeed  by  concurrence  may  be  held  as 
established  by  a  wide  induction,  notwithstanding  the  frequency 
of  the  case  now  supposed. 


We  have  seen  that  the  complex  loholes  around  us  in  the 
world,  are  held  together  in  the  recollection  by  the  adhesive 
force  of  Contiguity  :  such  objects  as  a  tree,  a  human  figure,  a 
scene  in  nature,  cannot  continue  in  the  mind,  or  be  revived 
as  ideas,  until  frequent  repetition  has  made  all  the  parts 
coherent.  After  the  requisite  iteration,  a  complex  object, 
such  as  a  rural  village,  may  be  revived  by  the  presence  of  a 
single  portion  of  it,  as  some  street,  or  building,  or  marked 
locality.  But,  if  the  village  is  one  not  very  well  known, — 
that  is,  if  the  notion  of  it  is  not  very  firmly  aggregated 
in  the  mind, — the  traveller  just  entering  may  not  be  ready 
to  identify  it  by  the  first  thing  that  strikes  him  ;  he  may 
require  to  go  on  till  several  other  objects  come  in  view, 
when  probably  their  joint  impression  will  be  able  to  bring  up 
the  whole — in  other  words,  will  remind  him  what  village  he  is 
now  entering. 

So,  in  regarding  objects  as  concretes,  or  combinations  of 
many  distinct  qualities — an  orange,  for  example,  which 
affects  all  the  senses, — a  fixing  process  makes  the  different 
sensations  hold  together  in  one  complex  idea.  Here,  too, 
there  is  room  for  the  joint  action  of  associating  links  in  re- 
calling an  image  to  the  mind.  I  have  already  imagined  a 
case  of  this  description,  where  the  united  action  of  smell  and 
of  taste  was  supposed    to  revive  the  idea  of   the  concrete 


580  COMPOUND    ASSOCIATION. 

object  causing  them,  either  being  of  itself  insufficient  for  the 
purpose. 

3.  It  is,  however,  when  we  go  beyond  the  case  of  isolated 
objects,  to  the  still  greater  aggregates  made  up  by  the  rela- 
tions of  things  to  one  another,  that  we  can  reap  examples  of 
multiple  association  in  the  greatest  abundance.  In  the  con- 
nexions of  objects  with  places,  with  persons,  with  uses,  and 
with  properties,  we  see  numberless  occasions  for  the  working 
of  the  composite  link. 

When  things  have  a  fixed  locality,  they  become  associated 
in  the  mind  with  that  locality,  or  with  a  number  of  com- 
panion objects  or  appearances.  This  is  one  of  the  means  of 
their  restoration  to  the  mind  in  idea.  The  sight  or  remem- 
brance of  a  harbour  recalls  the  shipping ;  the  recollection  of 
a  building  brings  up  its  known  contents.  Conversely,  an 
object  that  has  a  fixed  place  recalls  the  place, — as  when  St. 
Paul's  reminds  us  of  the  neighbourhood  where  it  stands. 
Now,  it  not  seldom  happens,  that  we  desire  to  recall  a  place 
or  an  object  by  this  single  link  of  connexion,  but  are  unable 
to  do  so  ;  a  concurring  bond  may  then  be  brought  to  our 
aid. 

Thus,  to  take  the  case  of  searching  for  things  lost.  When 
we  do  not  know  where  to  find  a  thing  that  we  ourselves 
have  put  in  its  place  or  seen  there,  the  adhesion  of  place  is 
by  that  circumstance  shown  to  be  feeble.  We  then  run  over 
other  links  of  association — the  time  when  we  last  saw  it ; 
the  work  we  were  engaged  in  ;  or  any  fact  that  would  have 
an  association  with  the  forgotten  place  :  we  may  thus, 
through  a  multiplicity  of  feeble  connexions,  attain  a  force  of 
recall  equal  to  one  sufficiently  strong  adhesion. 

The  connexions  with  persons  frequently  prove  an  assisting 
link  in  difficult  recollection.  Objects  become  associated  with 
their  owners,  their  makers,  their  inventors,  all  persons  con- 
cerned in  their  use,  or  frequenting  their  locality.  When  we 
are  unable  to  recover  a  thing,  by  the  adhesion  between  it  and 
other  inanimate  accompaniments,  a  personal  connexion  will 
often  make  up  what  is  wanting.     Thus,  in  my  endeavour  to 


COMPOSITE    ASSOCIATIONS    WITH    PERSONS.  581 

recollect  an  array  of  objects  in  some  museum,  there  are  some 
that  have  completely  escaped  me  :  the  association  of  these 
with  their  place  in  the  building,  and  with  the  adjoining 
objects,  is  not  enough  ;  but,  when  I  chance  to  recall  the 
donor,  the  collector,  or  maker,  along  with  these  other  ad- 
juncts, the  vanished  individuals  may  be  made  to  re-appear. 

It  happens,  likewise,  that  things  are  recalled  by  plurality 
of  association  wath  persons  ;  each  link  being  too  weak  alone, 
but  made  powerful  by  union.  I  meet  some  one  in  the  street, 
and  make  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  remember  where  I  last 
saw  the  saine  person  :  by  and  by,  some  one  else  occurs  to 
me,  who  was  present  on  the  occasion.  Perhaps,  if  I  had 
merely  this  last  person  in  my  view,  I  should  have  been  as 
little  able  to  revive  the  meeting  as  with  the  first  alone; 
whereas,  with  the  two,  I  have  no  longer  any  difficulty. 

The  converse  operation  of  remembering  a  person  by  two 
or  more  different  connexions  is  still  more  frequently  exein- 
plified.  A  human  being  is  a  sufficiently  manj^-sided  object 
to  be  open  to  revival  through  a  multiplex  bond.  Whether 
regarded  as  an  aggregate  of  many  parts,  or  as  a  concrete  of 
many  qualities,  the  remark  Jiolds  to  a  great  degree.  The 
particulars  of  a  personal  description  are  very  numerous,  and 
it  often  requires  many  of  them  to  be  cited,  in  order  to  bring 
to  mind  an  individual  very  well  known  to  us.  Moreover, 
the  ei'ternal  relations  of  human  beings  surpass  in  variety 
those  of  other  objects.  Persons  are  associated  with  their 
name ;  with  locality,  habitation,  and  places  of  resort  ;  with 
blood  and  lineage — a  very  powerful  mental  tie,  m  consequence 
of  the  strength  of  the  family  feelings  ;  with  associates  and 
friends;  with  occupation,  pursuits,  amusements  ;  with  pro- 
perty and  possessions ;  with  rank  and  position  ;  with  the 
many  attributes  that  make  up  character  and  reputation  ; 
with  a  particular  age  ;  with  the  time  they  have  lived  in ; 
with  the  vicissitudes  and  incidents  that  mark  the  course  of 
their  life.  Now,  in  recalling  some  individual  to  mind,  some 
one  or  more  of  these  connexions  will  serve  ;  and,  when  a 
present   link   is  insufticient,  others  may  be  added.     If  we 


582  COMPOUND    ASSOCIATION. 

were  endeavouring  to  recover  the  historical  personages  of  a 
given  time — the  age  of  Pericles,  for  example, — there  would  he 
a  certain  strength  of  bond  between  each  of  them  and  the  idea 
of  the  time, — namely,  the  fifth  century  before  Christ.  In  the 
case  of  some,  this  link  might  be  strong  enough  of  itself; 
with  others,  a  second  link  might  be  requisite, — as,  for  instance, 
their  profession.  With  the  idea  of  a  sculptor  entering  into 
the  combination,  we  should  recall  Phidias  ;  with  a  painter, 
Zeuxis ;  with  a  philosopher,  Anaxagoras.  Our  historical 
memory  is  frequently  helped  after  this  fashion. 

4.  The  connexion  of  things  with  uses  is  a  source  of  mul- 
tiple bonds.  A  machine,  a  building,  the  materials  of  food, 
clothing,  etc.,  whatever  comes  into  the  market  as  a  useful 
commodity,  an  army,  or  a  fleet, — all  such  things  have,  besides 
their  appearance,  locality,  ownership,  etc.,  a  distinct  end  to 
serve  ;  whence  arises  a  powerful  bond  of  association.  If  I  am 
unable  to  remember  the  objects  that  I  have  seen  in  a  certain 
shop,  by  virtue  solely  of  their  association  with  the  shop,  and 
with  contiguous  things  that  I  do  remember,  one  course  open 
to  me  would  be  to  run  over  in  my  mind  a  list  of  utilities  to 
be  answered ;  in  which  list  I  should  bring  up  one  or  more  uses 
of  the  forgotten  things,  and  the  new  bond  co-operating  would 
be  sure  to  recover  some  of  those  from  their  oblivious  condi- 
tion. To  carry  awa}'  a  full  recollection  of  the  contents  of  a 
workshop  that  I  have  visited,  I  should  find  it  necessary  to 
aid  the  associations  of  contiguity  of  place  and  succession  with 
the  various  ends  or  utilities  that  were  to  be  suited. 

In  the  natural  sciences,  the  material  objects  of  the  world 
are  looked  upon  as  having  many  properties,  useful  or  not : 
these  are  ascertained  by  observation  and  experiment,  and  are 
recorded  as  part  of  the  description  of  the  several  substances. 
In  this  way,  everything  suffers  an  ideal  expansion  or  aggran- 
dizement in  the  mind ;  the  connexions  of  things,  or  the 
threads  that  give  us  our  hold  of  them,  are  multiplied.  The 
substance,  silica,  in  the  mind  of  a  naturalist,  has  a  vast 
range  of  associations  in  consequence  of  the  many  properties 
entering  into  his  notion  of  it.     These  various  links  tend  to 


OBJECTS    WITH    THEIR    PROPERTIES.  58'S- 

bring  the  substance  repeatedly  before  the  mind  :  sometimes, 
one  link  is  sufficiently  powerful — as,  for  example,  the  recol- 
lection of  a  given  degree  of  hardness  ;  at  other  times,  the 
material  is  recoverable  by  double  or  triple  connexions — as 
the  ideas  of  an  oxide,  of  insolubility,  and  of  a  six-sided 
crystallization.  The  scientific  man's  memory  is  constanth'- 
aided  by  the  multiplication  of  bonds  indi^ddually  too  feeble 
to  bring  about  the  recollection  of  something  absent.  In 
invention,  or  in  the  search  for  a  new  device  to  answer  some 
end,  the  mind  must  go  over  catalogues  of  objects  according 
to  many  kinds  of  contiguity,  including  the  most  casual 
connexions. 

5.  Successions. —  I  have  dwelt  at  length,  in  a  previous 
chapter,  on  the  contiguous  association  of  successions  of 
various  kinds.  Here,  too,  in  the  circumstance  of  imperfect 
adhesion,  the  recovery  may  be  due  to  a  composite  action.  A 
series  of  events  actually  witnessed  would,  in  consequence, 
possess  a  certain  amount  of  adhesion.  In  the  endeavour  to 
recall  the  series  from  the  commencement,  a  link  may  fail, 
while  some  second  association,  such  as  place  or  person,  con- 
tributes a  strengthening  bond. 

There  is  one  succession  that  contains  the  whole  of  our 
experience, — that  is,  the  Order  of  Time,  or  the  sequence  of 
events  in  each  one's  own  history.  If  all  the  minutias  of  this 
succession  were  to  cohere  perfectly  in  the  mind,  everythmg 
that  we  have  ever  done,  seen,  or  been  cognizant  of,  could  be 
recovered  by  means  of  it.  But,  although  all  the  larger  trans- 
actions and  the  more  impressive  scenes  of  our  personal 
history  are  linked  in  this  order  with  a  sufficient  firmness,  yet, 
for  smaller  incidents,  the  bond  is  too  weak.  I  cannot 
remember  fully  my  yesterday's  doings  ;  nor  repeat  verbatim 
an  address  of  five  minutes'  length,  whether  spoken  or  heard. 
Things  related  in  the  order  of  time  are,  strictly  speaking, 
experienced  only  once ;  and  we  usually  require  repetition  to 
fix  any  mental  train.  It  constantly  happens,  therefore,  that 
we  are  in  search  of  some  reinforcing  connexion  to  help  us 
ni  recovering  the  stream  of  events,  as  they  occurred  in  the 


584  COMPOUND   ASSOCIATION. 

order  of  time.     We  seek  for  other  conjunctions  and  succes- 
sions to  enable  us  to  recommence  after  every  break. 

Experience  teaches  us,  that  the  only  way  of  making  up  a 
defective  adhesion  is  to  compass  in  ouv  minds  some  other 
connexion,  or  to  get  at  the  missing  object  through  a  new 
door.  The  inability  to  recollect  the  next  occurring  particular 
of  a  train  that  we  are  in  want  of,  stimulates  a  great  effort  of 
volition,  and  the  true  course  for  the  mind  to  take  is  to  get 
upon  some  chain  or  current  that  is  likely  to  cross  the  line  of 
the  first  near  the  break. 

At  every  moment  of  life,  each  person  stands  immersed  in 
a  complicated  scene,  and  each  object  of  this  scene  may 
become  a  starting-point  for  a  train  of  recollections.  All  the 
internal  feelings  of  the  body ;  everything  that  surrounds  us 
and  strikes  the  eye,  ear,  touch,  taste,  or  smell ;  all  the  ideas, 
emotions,  and  purposes  occupying  the  mind, — these  form  so 
many  beginnings  of  trains  of  association  passing  far  away 
into  the  remotest  regions  of  recollection  and  thought ;  and 
we  have  it  in  our  power  to  stop  and  change  the  direction  as 
often  as  we  please.  From  some  one  of  these  present  things, 
we  must  commence  our  outgoings  towards  the  absent  and 
the  distant,  whether  treading  in  single  routes,  or  introducing 
composite  action. 

6.  Language. — The  recall  of  names  by  things,  and  of 
things  by  names,  gives  special  occasion  for  bringing  in  addi- 
tional links  to  aid  a  feeble  tie.  When  we  have  forgotten  the 
name  of  a  person,  or  of  an  object,  we  are  under  the  necessity 
of  referring  back  to  the  situation  and  circumstances  where  we 
have  heard  the  name,  to  see  if  any  other  bond  of  connexion 
will  spring  up.  Often  we  are  unable,  at  the  moment,  to 
recover  the  lost  sound  by  any  means  ;  but,  afterwards,  an 
auxiliary  circumstance  crosses  the  view,  and  the  revival  is 
effected. 

Many  of  our  recollections,  thoughts,  conceptions,  and 
imaginings,  are,  an  inextricable  mixture  of  language  and 
ideas  of  things. ,'  The  notions  that  we  acquire  through  oral 
instruction,  or  from   books,  are  made  up    in    part  by   the 


LANGUAGE    RECALLED    BY    COMPOSITE    BONDS.  585 

subject-matter  purely,  and  in  part  by  the  phraseology  that 
conveyed  it.  Thus,  my  recollection  of  a  portion  of  history  is 
made  up  of  the  train  of  words,  with  the  train  of  historical 
facts  and  scenes,  as  I  might  have  witnessed  them  with  my  own 
eyes.  So,  in  many  sciences,  there  is  a  combination  of  visual 
or  tactual  notions  with  language.  Geometry  is  a  compound 
of  visible  diagrams  with  the  language  of  definitions,  axioms, 
and  demonstrations.  Now,  in  all  these  cases,  recollection 
may  depend,  either  on  the  associations  of  words,  or  on  the 
associations  of  visual  and  other  conceptions,  or  on  a  com- 
pound of  both.  If  I  listen  to  a  geographical  description, 
there  is,  in  the  first  place,  a  train  of  words  dropping  on 
my  ear ;  and,  by  virtue  of  a  perfect  verbal  cohesion,  I  might 
recall  the  whole  description  and  recite  it  to  another  person. 
In  the  second  place,  there  is  a  series  of  views  of  objects — 
of  mountain,  river,  plain,  and  forest — which  I  picture  in  my 
mind  and  retain  independently  of  the  language  used  to  sug- 
gest them.  Were  my  pictorial  adhesion  strong  enough,  I 
could  recall  the  whole  of  the  features  in  the  order  that  I  was 
made  to  conceive  them,  and  dispense  with  the  language. 
The  common  case,  however,  is  that  the  recollection  is  effected 
by  a  union  of  both  the  threads  of  cohesion  :  the  pictorial 
train  is  assisted  by  the  verbal,  and  the  verbal  by  the  pictorial, 
as  may  happen. 

COMPOSITION   OF   SIMILARITIES. 

7.  The  influence  of  the  multiplication  of  points  of  likeness, 
in  securing  the  revival  of  a  past  object,  is  liable  to  no 
uncertainty.  It  is  only  an  extension  of  the  principle  main- 
tained all  through  the  discussion  of  the  law  of  similarity, 
that  the  greater  the  similitude,  and  the  more  numerous  the 
points  of  resemblance,  the  surer  is  the  stroke  of  recall.  If 
I  meet  a  person  very  like  some  one  else  I  have  formerly 
known,  the  probability  of  my  recalling  this  last  person  to 
view  is  increased,  if  the  likeness  in  face  and  feature  is  com- 
bined with  similarity  of  dress,  of  speech,  of  gait,  or  of  any 
still  more  extraneous  points,  such  as  occupation,  or  history. 


586  COMPOUND    ASSOCIATION. 

Increase  of  resemblance  extensively — that  is,  by  outward  con- 
nexions— has  the  same  power  as  increase  of  resemblance 
intensively,  in  rendering  the  restoration  of  the  past  more 
certain.  It  might  admit  of  a  doubt  whether  four  faint  links 
of  contiguous  adhesion  would  be  equal  to  one  strong,  but  it 
would  be  against  our  whole  experience  of  the  workings  of 
similarity,  to  doubt  the  utility  of  multiplying  faint  resem- 
blances, when  there  was  no  one  sufficiently  powerful  to  effect 
the  revival.  At  the  same  time,  we  must  allow  that  much 
more  is  contributed  to  the  chances  of  reinstatement  by 
intensifying  one  point  of  likeness,  than  by  adding  new  ones 
of  a  faint  character.  By  raising  some  single  feature  almost 
up  to  the  point  of  identity,  we  should  do  more  good  than 
could  be  done  by  scattering  faint  and  detached  likenesses 
over  the  picture.  This,  however,  is  not  always  in  our 
power ;  and  we  are  glad  to  find  that,  when  the  similarity,  in 
any  one  particular,  is  too  feeble  to  suggest  the  resembling 
past,  the  existence  of  a  plurality  of  weak  resemblances  will 
be  the  equivalent  of  a  single  stronger  one. 

On  this  view,  I  might  set  forth  the  workings  of  compo- 
site similarities,  from  the  various  classes  of  examples  gone 
over  in  the  preceding  chapter.  In  all  very  complicated  con- 
junctions— as,  for  example,  a  landscape, — there  may  be  a  mul- 
tiplication of  likenesses,  unable  to  strike  singly,  but,  by  their 
concurrence,  suggesting  a  parallel  scene.  Hence,  in  en- 
deavouring to  recall  resembling  things,  we  may  proceed,  as  in 
Contiguity,  by  hunting  out  new  collaterals,  on  the  chance  of 
increasing  the  amount  of  similitude,  and,  with  that,  the 
attractive  power  of  the  present  for  the  absent.  If  I  am 
endeavouring  to  recall  to  mind  some  historic  parallel  to  a 
present  political  situation,  supposing  one  to  exist  and  to  have 
been  at  some  former  time  impressed  on  my  mind,  there  may 
be  a  want  of  any  single  salient  likeness,  such  as  we  admit  to 
be  the  most  effective  medium  of  reinstatement ;  and  I  must, 
therefore,  go  over  in  my  mind  all  the  minute  features  of  the 
present,  to  enhance,  in  this  way,  the  force  of  the  attraction 
of  similitude  for  tlie  forgotten  parallel. 


INCREASED    AMOUNT    OF    SIMILARITY.  587 

8.  The  case  noticed  at  the  conclusion  of  the  preceding 
head — namely,  the  combination  of  language  with  subject- 
matter  in  a  mixed  recollection — is  favourable  to  the  occurrence 
of  compound  similarity.  If  an  orator  has  to  deal  with  a 
special  point — the  conduct  of  an  individual,  for  example, 
which  he  wishes  to  denounce  by  a  cutting  simile — his  inven- 
tion may  be  aided  by  some  similarity  in  the  phrases  descrip- 
tive of  the  case,  as  well  as  in  the  features  of  the  case  itself. 
If  one  who  has  at  a  former  time  read  the  play  of  (Edipus, 
now  commences  to  read  Lear,  the  similarity  is  not  at  first 
apparent ;  but,  long  before  the  conclusion,  there  will  be  a 
sufficient  accumulation  of  features  of  similitude,  in  dramatic 
situation  and  in  language,  to  bring  CEdipus  to  mind  without 
any  very  powerful  stretch  of  intellectual  force.  So,  in  scien- 
tific invention  :  a  fact  described  in  language  has  a  double 
power  of  suggestion ;  and  if,  by  good  luck,  the  fact  has  a 
likeness  to  some  other  fact,  and  the  description  resembles 
the  language  that  accompanied  that  other  when  formerly 
present  to  the  ndnd,  there  is  so  mucli  the  more  chance  of 
the  revival  taking  place. 


MIXED   CONTIGUITY   AND   SIMILARITY. 

9.  Under  this  head,  there  are  several  interesting  examples. 

If  any  one,  in  describing  a  storm,  employ  the  phrase '  a 
war  of  elements,'  the  metaphor  has  been  brought  to  mind 
partly  by  similitude,  but  partly  also  by  contiguity,  seeing 
that  the  comparison  has  already  been  made.  The  person 
that  first  used  the  phrase  came  upon  it  by  similarity;  he  that 
used  it  next  had  contiguity  to  assist  him;  and,  after  frequent 
repetition,  the  bond  of  contiguity  may  be  so  well  confirmed, 
that  the  force  of  similarity  is  entirely  superseded.  In  this 
way,  many  things  that  were  originally  strokes  of  genius,  end 
in  being  efforts  of  mere  adhesive  recollection ;  while,  for  a 
time  previous  to  this  final  consummation,  there  is  a  mixed 
effort  of  the  two  suggesting  forces.     Hence  Johnson's  remark 


588  ■  COMPOUND    ASSOCIATION. 

on  the  poet  Ogilvie,— that  his  poem  contained  what  was  once 
imagination,  but  in  him  had  come  to  be  memory.* 

In  all  regions  of  intellectual  exertion — industry,  science, 
art,  literature, — there  is  a  kind  of  ability  displayed  in  taking 
up  great  and  original  ideas  and  combinations,  before  they 
have  been  made  easy  by  iteration.  Minds  unable  for  the 
highest  efforts  of  origination  may  yet  be  equal  to  this  second 
degree  of  genius,  wherein  a  considerable  force  of  similarity 
is  assisted  by  a  small  thread  of  contiguity.  To  master  a  large 
multitude  of  the  discoveries  of  identification,  a  power  of 
similarity  short  of  the  original  force  that  gave  birth  to  them, 
is  aided  by  the  contiguous  bond  that  has  grown  up,  during  a 
certain  number  of  repetitions  of  each. 

10.  A  second  case  is,  when  a  similarity  is  struck  out  in 
circumstances  such  as  to  bring  the  absent  object  into  near 
proximity  in  some  contiguous  train.  Thus,  a  poet  falls  upon 
a  beautiful  metaphor,  while  dwelling  in  the  region  where  the 
material  of  the  simile  occurs.  In  the  country,  rural  com- 
parisons are  most  easily  made ;  on  board  ship,  nautical 
metaphors  are  naturally  abundant. 

If  we  chance  to  be  studying  by  turns  two  different 
sciences  that  throw  much  light  on  each  other,  we  are  in  the 
best  position  for  deriving  the  benefit  of  the  comparison. 
When  we  know  the  most  likely  source  of  fertile  similitudes 
for  some  difficult  problem,  we  naturally  keep  near  that 
source,  in  order  that  we  may  be  struck  with  the  faintest 
gleam  of  likeness,  through  the  help  of  proximity.  A  historian 
of  the  ancient  republics  cultivates  a  familiarity  with  all  the 
living  instances  of  the  republican  system.    Now  that  physical 

*  '  On  Tuesday,  the  5th  July  (1763),  I  again  visited  Johnson.  He  told 
me  he  had  now  looked  into  the  poems  of  a  pretty  voluminous  writer,  Mr. 
(now  Dr.)  John  Ogilvie,  one  of  the  Presbyterian  rainisters  of  Scotland,  which 
had  lately  come  out,  but  could  find  nothing  in  them. 

'  BoswELL.     Is  there  not  imagination  in  them,  sir  ? 

'Johnson.  Why,  sir,  there  is  in  them,  what  xras  imagination,  but  it  is 
no  more  imagination  in  him,,  than  sound  is  sound  in  the  echo.  And  his 
diction,  too,  is  not  his  own.  We  have  long  ago  seen  ivJiite-robed  innocence, 
Sundi fiower-besjjimgled  meads' 


PEOXIMITY  AS  AN  AID  TO  RECALL.  589 

science  is  largely  indebted  to  mathematical  handling,  the 
physicist  has  to  maintain  his  freshness  in  mathematics.  It 
is  not  altogether  safe  to  trust  to  an  acquisition  of  old  date, 
however  pertinacious  the  mind  be  in  retaining  the  subject 
in  question.  The  great  discoveries  of  identification  that 
astonish  the  world  and  open  up  new  vistas  of  knowledge, 
have  doubtless  often  been  helped  by  the  accidental  proximity 
of  the  things  made  to  flash  together.  For  illustration's  sake, 
we  might  suppose  Newton  in  the  act  of  meditating  upon 
the  planetary  attraction,  at  the  time  that  the  celebrated  apple 
fell  to  the  ground  before  his  eyes :  a  proximity  so  very 
close  would  powerfully  aid  in  bringing  on  the  stroke  of 
identification.* 

Eeceucy  of  occurrence  in  the  first  instance  has  been  already 
noted,  as  making  revival  easy,  if  not  also  spontaneous.  It  is  a 
primary  law  of  all  impressions  whatsoever,  that,  for  some  time 
after  they  are  first  made,  they  come  back  readily  to  the  conscious- 
ness, even  without  an  express  associating  link.  More  often  still, 
they  arise  on  a  very  slight  touch  of  independent  suggestion,  such 
as  might  not  have  sufiiced  if  they  had  faded  away  into  the  dis- 
tance through  lapse  of  time.  All  this  is  perpetually  exemplified 
in  the  recollections  involved  in  our  everyday  transactions  (see 
Contiguity,  p.  182). 

THE   ELEMENT   OF   FEELING. 

11.  We  have  already  seen,  under  Contiguity,  that  associa- 
tions grow  up  between  objects  and  emotional  states,  whereby 

*  Dr.  Pick,  a  public  lecturer  ou  Mnemonics,  has  suggested  an  aid  to 
verbal  memory,  founded  on  mixed  contiguity  and  similarity.  If  we  are 
leai'ning  a  string  of  unconnected  names,  we  must  trust  to  contiguous  growth 
solely  ;  but,  if  it  be  allowable  to  arrange  them  at  pleasure.  Dr.  Pick  suggests 
that  we  should  find  out  an  order,  such  that  each  word  shall  have  in  it 
something  in  common  with  the  following,  or  some  pre-established  connexion 
of  meaning.  Thus,  he  takes  the  French  irregular  verbs,  and  arranges  them 
in  the  following  series  (I  give  the  English) : — sew,  sit  down,  move,  go,  go 
away,  send,  follow,  run,  shun,  etc.  The  previous  connexion  between  the 
actions  expressed  by  '  sew '  and '  sit  down  '  is  obviously  a  powerful  addition 
to  the  link  of  mere  contiguity  in  utterance.  Alphabetical  arrangement  (or 
Alliteration)  gives  a  similar  aid,  although  not  so  efficacious  as  the  close 
alliance  of  meaning  that  occurs  in  the  above  series. 


590  COMPOUND    ASSOCIATION. 

the  one  can  recall  the  other — the  object  reviving  the  emotion, 
and  the  emotion  the  object.  Anything,  for  example,  that  has 
been  strongly  associated  with  a  disgust,  is  apt  to  recall  the 
feeling  at  a  future  time. 

This  bond  may  be  found  entering  into  composite  associa- 
tions. In  remembering  some  past  object  that  has  been  linked 
in  the  mind  with  a  certain  emotion,  the  presence  of  the 
emotion  will  contribute  to  the  recall.  Although  not  always 
sufficient  of  itself,  this  vinculum  will  often  be  found  co- 
operating with  others  to  effect  the  revival  of  an  old  recollec- 
tion. AYhile  luxuriating  in  a  state  of  agreeable  warmth,  we 
are  easily  reminded  of  former  situations  and  circumstances 
when  we  were  under  the  same  feeling. 

^Mlen  we  experience  any  of  the  special  emotions — 
as  Terror,  Anger,  Tenderness,  Beauty, — objects  connected 
with  the  emotion  are  attracted,  while  all  others  are  repelled. 
In  moods  of  tenderness,  objects  of  affection  rise  by  prefer- 
ence. If  the  mind  is  disposed  to  indulge  in  an  irascible 
outburst,  objects  of  anger  and  hatred  find  an  easy  opening, 
while  others  are  shut  out,  although  strongly  suggested  by 
separate  links  of  association.  Something  occurs  to  bring  to 
view  a  good  deed  performed  by  the  obnoxious  party ;  but 
the  suggestion  is  not  entertained.  "WTien  an  emotion 
possesses  the  mind  in  anything  like  fury,  nothing  that  is 
discordant  with  it  can  find  a  place,  while  the  feeblest  link  of 
connexion  is  sufficient  to  recall  circumstances  in  harmony 
wdth  the  dominant  state. 

12.  Hence,  in  minds  very  susceptible  to  eraotion,  the 
more  purely  intellectual  bonds  of  association  are  perpetually 
combined  and  modified  by  connexions  with  feeling.  The 
entire  current  of  thought  and  recollection  is  thus  impressed 
with  a  character  derived  from  emotion.  AYhen  tender 
affection  is  indulged  as  a  dominant  feeling,  the  objects  that 
rise  from  the  past,  no  less  than  those  engaging  the  at- 
tention in  the  present,  are  for  the  most  part  tinged  with 
this  feeling.  A  joyous  temperament  has  its  genial  recollec- 
tions ;  melancholy   opens    the   door   to    a   totally    different 


EMOTIONAL   ASSOCIATIONS   AID    REPEODUCTION.  591 

class.  The  egotist  is  eager  for  any  suggestions  that  connect 
themselves  with  self,  and  a  sHght  contiguity  or  similarity 
will  suffice  to  make  these  present.  A  strong  natural  feel- 
incf  of  reverence  accumulates  a  store  of  ideas  of  things 
venerable,  and  gives  them  precedence  in  the  resurrection 
of  thought. 

This  peculiarity  has  often  arrested  attention,  and  has 
been  adopted  as  a  theme  both  by  poets  and  by  philosophers. 
An  intellectual  and  cultivated  nature  strives  to  maintain 
the  ascendency  of  the  intellectual  associations  over  the 
suggestions  of  emotions.  The  dominion  of  reason  is  another 
expression  for  the  same  fact. 

When  a  particular  emotion  is  excessive  in  the  character, 
not  only  can  we  readily  predict  the  actions,  we  can  almost 
read  the  thoughts  of  the  individual.  The  anecdote  of 
Burke's  divination  of  the  thoughts  of  Goldsmith,  when 
passing  a  crowd  collected  by  the  feats  of  a  mountebank,  can 
scarcely  be  called  extravagant  as  an  illustration  in  point. 

INFLUENCE  OF  VOLITION. 

13.  In  many  cases,  our  recollection  of  the  past  is  pro- 
moted by  Volition ;  that  is,  we  have  some  purpose  or  end 
in  view  which  stimulates  the  activity  of  the  system  to 
bring  about  the  recovery.  I  wish  to  recall  the  name  of  an 
object  before  me,  to  remember  where  I  last  saw  a  given 
person,  to  find  a  principle  applicable  to  a  case  in  hand. 
For  a  time,  I  fail  in  my  endeavour;  but,  by  prolonged 
effort,  I  effect  the  desired  recovery. 

It  is  interesting  to  ascertain  in  what  way  the  power  of 
the  will  fuses  with  the  intellectual  forces  of  reproduction. 
At  what  point  does  this  influence  operate  ?  Can  it  augment 
a  contiguous  adhesiveness  too  feeble,  or  the  attraction  of  a 
similarit}^  too  little  marked  ? 

We  must  pronounce  the  influence  indirect.  There  is, 
apparently,  no  power  of  adding  to  the  energy  of  the  associat- 
ing bond  either  of  contiguity  or  of  similarity,  by  a  voluntary 
effort.      The  reproductions   of  the  intellect  are  withdrawn 


592  COMPOUND    ASSOCIATION. 

from  the  control  of  volition.  One  thought  cannot  be  made 
to  succeed  another,  by  mere  will,  as  one  movement  of  a  limb 
may  be  made  to  succeed  another.  The  modes  of  interference 
of  a  volition  are  as  follows  : — 

(1)  In  exciting  the  nervous  system,  so  as  to  exalt  the 
intensity  of  the  mental  processes  generally.  It  is  the  nature 
of  an  end  strongly  felt,  to  stimulate  and  excite  the  whole 
frame  of  body  and  mind.  Difficulty  adds  fuel  to  the  flame. 
Under  excitement,  within  bounds,  everything  we  do  is  done 
with  more  vigour.  The  bodily  efforts  are  stronger,  the  senses 
are  more  alive,  the  volitions  are  more  intense,  and  the 
intellect  shares  in  the  stinmlation. 

(2)  Volition  may  govern  intellectual  attention,  in  the 
same  manner  as  observation  in  the  actual.  AVhen  many 
things  are  before  the  eye,  some  are  observed,  and  the  rest 
passed  by.  A  strong  liking  for  one  object  of  the  scene 
stimulates  the  movements  tl^at  turn  the  gaze  in  that 
direction — as  when  an  infant  bends  its  eyes  to  the  flame  of 
a  candle  or  to  a  familiar  face.  Now,  I  have  already  main- 
tained a  lengthened  argument  to  show  that,  in  the  recovery 
of  objects  as  ideas,  when  they  are  no  longer  present  as 
realities,  the  same  nervous  circles  and  the  same  organs  of 
sense  and  movement  are  actuated,  that  were  actuated  in 
the  original  perception  during  the  sensible  presence.  The 
ideal  picture  of  a  building  is  a  series  of  impressions, 
sustained  in  the  optic  and  the  moving  apparatus  of  the 
eye,  and  in  the  circles  of  the  brain  in  operation  at  the  time 
vhen  we  were  gazing  on  the  actual  building.  Wherefore, 
as  we  have  the  power  to  prolong  our  gaze  at  pleasure  upon 
the  real  object,  to  turn  from  one  part  to  another,  to  examine 
some  points  minutely  and  pass  the  rest  over, — so,  when 
this  building  becomes  a  recollection,  the  same  power  of 
varying  the  inward  gaze  remains  to  us.  AVe  can  dwell 
upon  the  outline,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  details,  we  can 
concentrate  the  attention  upon  a  column  or  a  cornice,  we 
can  indulge  our  recollection  of  the  appearance  of  the 
material;  in  a  word,  we  can  deal  with  the  idea,  notion,  or 


OPERATION    OF    THE    WILL    IN    MEMORY.  593 

revived  image,  as  we  could  with  the  reahty.  Vohtion  is 
not  crippled  by  the  transition  from  the  actual  to  the  ideal ; 
for  the  reason,  as  I  conceive,  that  the  same  organs  are 
concerned  in  both.  If  the  things  of  observation,  when  exist- 
ing as  ideas,  were  made  to  pass  into  a  separate  chamber  of 
the  mind,  we  should  have  a  difficulty  in  comprehending  how 
they  could  be  reached  by  this  voluntary  control  ;  because  I 
look  upon  volition  as  existing  only  in  connexion  with  the 
active  organs — that  is,  with  the  muscular  system.  Even  in 
the  sphere  of  thought,  the  limitation  holds.  The  same  voli- 
tion that  rules  the  bodily  eye,  can  rule  the  mental,  because 
that  mental  eye  is  still  not  other  than  the  bodily  one.  (For 
apparent  anomalies  and  exceptions  to  this  law,  see  The 
Emotions  and  the  Will,  p,  372.) 

Thus,  then,  volition  operates  in  aiding  the  recovery  of 
the  past,  through  the  power  of  directing  and  fixing  the 
attention  on  any  of  the  objects  present  to  the  mind  at 
the  time,  to  the  exclusion  of  others.  I  remember  one  link 
of  an  otherwise  forgotten  chain  :  I  dwell  upon  this  link  till 
it  becomes  more  vivid  itself,  and  thus  acquires  the  power 
of  calling  up  the  rest.  The  object  so  selected  is  the  one 
made  intensely  present,  and  thereby  becomes  the  starting- 
point  of  the  association.  The  idea  that  next  comes  up  in 
the  movement  of  reproduction,  will  be  some  associate,  or 
similar,  of  this  ;  just  as  the  thing  that  we  select  for  special 
observation  out  of  a  various  array  seen  by  the  eye,  will  be 
the  thing  that  will  suggest  the  next  idea  that  rises  before 
the  mind.  AVe  can,  therefore,  always  give  a  preference  of 
attention  to  one  of  the  many  objects  that  come  up  to  our 
recollection,  whichever  is  thus  preferred  being  rendered  the 
suggestive  object ;  and,  consequently,  the  resuscitated  trains 
will  be  those  in  accordance  with  the  purposes  or  ends  of 
the  moment. 

In  difficult  or  laboured  recollection,  we  have  already  seen 
that  the  chief  hope  lies  in  obtaining  additional  bonds  of 
association.  An  effort  of  volition  is  the  means  employed. 
The  effort   consists   in   fastening   the  attention  on  various 

38 


594  COMPOUND    ASSOCIATION. 

things  within  the  view  till  these,  one  after  another,  are 
rendered  suggestive  of  trains  of  ideas,  some  one  of  which 
perchance  may  have  a  connexion  with  the  thing  sought,  and 
may  supplement  the  deficient  bond  up  to  the  full  power  of 
recall.  In  searching  out  a  historic  parallel,  for  example,  we 
may  suppose  the  power  of  similarity  unequal  to  the  task  of 
evoking  a  proper  instance.  The  mind  then  starts  off  in  a 
train  of  contiguity  over  the  field  of  history  ;  which  proceeds, 
not  by  any  voluntary  power  of  commanding  one  fact  to 
succeed  another,  but  by  directing  the  view  on  a  starting- 
point — the  age  of  Alexander  the  Great,  for  instance :  with 
the  attention  fixed  on  him,  the  associated  particulars  of  his 
time,  so  far  as  they  have  been  made  coherent,  flow  in  of  their 
own  accord.  This  power  of  concentrating  the  attention  on 
any  part  of  a  circle  of  notions  present  to  the  mind,  like  the 
power  of  directing  the  observation  on  some  one  aspect  of  a 
real  scene,  appears  to  be  the  main  function  of  volition  in  the 
resuscitation  of  the  past. 

A   COMPLEX    START   NEEDED   FOR   A   SINGLE   TRAIN. 

Attention  has  already  been  called  (page  481)  to  the  frequent 
necessity  of  providing  a  complex  situation  as  the  associative 
antecedent  in  a  given  case  of  recovery  of  the  past.  This  is 
readily  confounded  with  plural  associations  in  the  sense  of 
the  present  chapter,  but  is  really  a  plurality  of  a  distinct 
species  :  it  is,  indeed,  of  far  more  frequent  occurrence  in  our 
intellectual  resuscitations  in  the  case  now  in  hand.  Its  full 
elucidation  is  exceedingly  various,  as  the  following  instances 
will  show. 

14.  If  I  look  at  a  mountain,  there  are  many  trains  that  I 
may  be  led  into,  by  taking  this  as  a  point  to  start  from.  By 
simple  contiguity,  I  may  pass  to  the  other  mountains  of  the 
chain,  to  the  plains  and  the  villages  beyond,  to  the  mineral 
composition  of  the  mass,  to  the  botany,  to  the  geological 
structure,  to  the  historical  events  happening  there.  By 
similarity,  I  may  be  led  away  to  mountains  that  I  have  seen 
in  other  lands,  or  in  the  representations  of  the  painter  and 


SPECIALIZING   BONDS    IN    EQUALITY   OF   ATTRACTIONS.      595 

the  poet,  to  the  analogous  geometrical  forms,  to  equivalent 
artistic  effects.  All  these  vents  may  be  open  to  me  ;  but  it 
will  happen  that  I  go  on  some  one  track  by  preference,  and 
there  will  be  a  motive  for  the  preference.  Perhaps,  one  of  the 
associations  may  have  come  by  repetition  to  have  greater  force 
than  any  other  :  I  may  have  been  so  accustomed  to  associate 
together  the  mountain  and  the  neighbouring  village,  that  I  am 
led  at  once  upon  this  one  special  transition.  Another  cause 
may  be  the  presence  of  a  second  associating  bond.  If  I  see 
the  adjoining  mountain,  I  am  then  liable  to  be  led  along  the 
chain  :  if  I  catch  the  glancings  of  the  cascades,  there  is  a 
double  link  of  contiguity,  tending  to  carry  my  mind  to  the 
river  flowing  from  the  sides  of  the  mountain.  If  historical 
events  have  been  recently  in  my  mind,  the  events  referable 
to  this  locality  are  suggested.  If  botany  or  geology  is  my 
study,  a  bent  corresponding  to  these  is  impressed  on  the 
current  of  thought ;  if  geometry,  the  forms  suggested  by 
preference  are  the  figures  of  geometry  ;  if  I  am  an  artist,  the 
forms  of  art  spring  up  instead. 

The  position  supposed  almost  demands  an  additional  and 
a  specializing  bond  to  set  the  mind  in  motion  at  all.  We 
could  imagine  an  intellectual  situation  so  equally  balanced, 
that  no  revival  took  place  in  any  direction, — just  as  in  a 
conflict  of  equal  volitions.  Some  inequality  of  restorative 
power  in  the  various  trains,  or  some  second  association  coming 
in  aid  of  one  to  give  that  one  a  preponderance,  is  the  condition 
of  our  reviving  anything.  The  case  of  an  intellectual  stand- 
still between  opposing  suggestions  is  neither  chimerical  nor 
unexampled. 

I  will  suppose  another  instance.  A  violent  storm  has 
flooded  the  rivers,  blown  down  trees  and  buildings,  and 
inspired  general  terror.  The  trains  of  thought  suggested  by 
such  an  incident  are  extremely  various,  and  will  depend  on 
the  mental  condition  of  the  observer  in  other  respects,  or  on 
the  special  ideas  that  concur  with  the  aspect  common  to  all. 
The  sailor's  wife  thinks  of  her  husband  at  sea.  The  merchant 
and  underwriter  have  their  thoughts  on  the  same  element. 


596  COMPOUND   ASSOCIATION. 

The  farmer  calculates  the  loss  to  his  fields.  The  millowner 
sees  a  prospect  of  abundant  water  power.  The  meteor- 
ologist studies  the  direction,  duration,  and  force  of  the  hurri- 
cane, and  compares  it  with  previous  cases.  The  poet  sees 
grand  and  imposing  effects.  The  religious  man  has  his  mind 
carried  upwards  to  the  Deity. 

These  instances  imply  some  habitual  attitude  of  the  mind, 
or  an  emotion,  occupation,  or  pursuit,  ever  ready  as  a  starting- 
point  to  the  intellectual  movement,  and  combining  itself  with 
every  casual  impetus  given  to  the  mental  trains,  so  as  to 
constitute  an  element  of  the  composite  effect.  The  principle 
is  exactly  the  same  in  cases  where  the  second  association  is 
present  merely  by  accident. 

15.  We  have  more  than  once  adverted  to  the  mental  aggre- 
gates, formed  by  the  cluster  of  properties  attaching  to  natural 
objects,  especially  as  viewed  by  the  scientific  mind.  Thus, 
the  idea  of  the  mineral  quartz  is  a  vast  assemblage  of  facts, 
properties,  and  influences,  all  which  are  liable  to  come  before 
the  view,  when  the  mineral  is  seen  or  named.  So,  even  a 
naked  circle  is  rich  in  associations  to  the  geometrical  mind. 
It  does  not,  therefore,  follow  that,  every  time  a  mineralogist 
looks  upon  a  piece  of  quartz,  all  its  many  qualities  shall  rise 
and  pass  before  his  view  ;  or  that  every  circle  shall  hurry  the 
mind  of  a  geometer  all  through  the  Third  Book  of  Euclid. 
The  associating  links,  in  both  cases,  are  good  and  sound  ;  but 
some  motive  additional  to  the  force  of  the  acquired  adhesions 
is  needed  actually  to  recover  any  one  train.  Not  only  must 
the  mind  be  disengaged  from  other  trains,  there  must  also 
be  a  positive  stimulus,  a  second  starting-point,  to  indivi- 
dualize and  determine  the  bent  of  the  suggesting  power  to 
one  or  other  of  the  many  associated  ideas.  If  I  am  handling 
a  piece  of  quartz  and  trying  a  knife  edge  upon  it,  the 
degree  of  hardness  of  the  mineral  is  the  quality  suggested  ; 
if  an  acid  is  at  hand,  the  chemical  action  of  quartz  is  brought 
up  to  the  view  ;  and  so  on.  When  one  of  the  many  properties 
of  the  circle  strung  together  in  the  mind  of  a  mathematician 
is  resuscitated  by  preference,  it  is  by  the  agency  of  some 


FEWNESS    OF   IDEAS    MAKES   A    MORE    RAPID   FLOW.      597 

specializing  notion  pointing  to  that  individual.  The  most 
opulent  mind  must  have  moments  of  quiescence  ;  and  yet 
how  numerous  the  possible  outlets  of  thought  at  every 
moment ! 

OBSTRUCTIVE  ASSOCIATIONS. 

16.  It  will  now  be  apparent  that  thoughts  may  fail  to  be 
suggested,  notwithstanding  an  adequate  force  of  association. 
We  have  had  two  remarkable  cases  in  point : — the  influence  of 
an  emotion  in  keeping  back  what  is  not  in  harmony  with  it ; 
and  the  necessity  for  an  additional  determining  link  where 
many  lines  of  suggestion  are  equally  open. 

These  are  not  all.  A  recollection  is  sometimes  made 
impossible,  through  the  mind's  being  inextricably  seized  with 
something  near  what  is  sought,  but  yet  different.  We  are 
often  in  this  state  of  embarrassment  in  remembering  names. 
Falling  accidentally  into  a  wrong  articulation,  we  are  unable 
to  get  out  of  the  coil ;  and  it  is  not  till  sometime  afterwards, 
that  we  are  even  in  a  position  to  give  a  fair  trial  to  the 
recollective  adhesion  actually  possessed.  So,  as  we  have 
seen,  a  stroke  of  similarity  may  be  effectually  resisted,  by 
the  presence  of  something  repugnant.  The  principle  of 
compound  association  necessarily  involves  this  efficacy  to 
obstruct.  If  two  ideas,  by  both  pointing  to  a  third,  con- 
stitute a  prevailing  bond  of  restoration,  it  must  happen  that, 
if  these  two  present  ideas  point  in  opposite  directions,  they 
will  be  liable  to  neutralize  one  another's  efficacy.  The  power 
of  assisting  implies  the  power  of  resisting. 

Both  in  the  present  chapter,  and  in  speaking  of  con- 
structive associations  in  the  following  chapter,  it  is  open 
to  us  to  remark  the  distracting  influence  of  too  many  ideas. 
Promptitude  of  action  is  greatly  favoured  by  the  fewness 
of  the  considerations  that  enter  into  a  question.  Marvels 
of  ingenuity  are  often  accomplished  through  the  absence 
of  superfluous  suggestions.  In  the  operations  of  animals, 
happy  efforts  occur  to  surprise  us,  as  being  apparently  out 
of  keeping    with  the  range  of  their  faculties ;  in  some  in- 


598  COMPOUND    ASSOCIATION. 

stances,  the  explanation  is  found  in  the  Hmitation  of  the 
views.  The  animal  does  not  suffer  from  a  crowd  of  incom- 
patible associations.  The  same  circumstance  often  explains 
the  extraordinarj'  facility  of  speech,  or  the  readiness  in  action, 
of  men  very  deficient  in  mental  force  generally.  It  is  ob- 
served by  philologists  that  our  cultivated  languages  have 
ceased  to  form  new  roots.  The  reason  is,  that  the  existing 
roots  stand  in  the  way.  Originality  is  everywhere  arrested 
by  the  presence  of  a  large  stock  of  already-formed  concep- 
tions. Children,  before  learning  the  common-places,  often 
give  birth  to  original  remarks. 

When  there  are  many  distracting  portraits  of  the  same 
individual,  if  we  have  been  rendered  most  familiar  with  the 
inaccurate  ones,  it  is  very  difficult  if  not  impossible  to  abide 
by  the  most  authentic  when  it  comes  within  our  reach. 
This  is  notably  exemplified  in  the  portraits  of  Queen  Mary, 
and  also  in  those  of  Shakespeare,  after  we  have  examined 
the  bust  at  Stratford  Church.  As  a  contrasting  illustration, 
we  may  refer  to  the  remarkably  consistent  lineaments  of  the 
various  portraits  of  Oliver  Cromwell. 

17.  Obstructive  association  may  be  traced,  on  a  grand 
scale,  in  the  conflict  of  different  modes  of  viewing  the  objects 
and  occurrences  of  the  world.  There  is  a  standing  hostility 
between  the  Artistic  and  the  Scientific  modes  of  looking  at 
things;  and  an  opposition  less  marked  between  the  Scientific, 
or  the  Theoretical,  and  the  Practical  points  of  view.  The 
artistic  mind  is  obstructed  by  the  presence  of  considerations 
of  scientific  truth ;  and  the  scientific  mind,  bent  on  being 
artistic,  walks  encumbered,  and  with  diminished  energy. 
Poetic  fiction  is  never  so  brilliant  as  when  the  trammels  of 
truth  are  set  aside. 

A  good  instance  of  the  obstructiveness  of  incompatible 
ideas  is  found  in  the  effort  of  guessing  riddles  and  conun- 
drums. These  always  turn  upon  the  equivocal  meanings  of 
words.  Now,  a  mind  accustomed  to  dwell  upon  the  real 
meanings  of  language  is  disqualified  from  following  out  the 
play  of  equivocation,  not  because  the  requisite  associations 


CONTRAST  A  PHASE  OF  RELATIVITY.         599 

do   not  exist,  but  because   these   are   overborne   by  others 
inimical  to  the  whole  proceeding. 

The  power  of  conjuring  deals  largely  with  the  means  of 
setting  the  spectators  on  some  wrong  tack. 

ASSOCIATION  OF  CONTRAST. 

18.  Aristotle's  enumeration  of  the  associating  principles 
of  the  mind  included  Contrariety,  along  with  Similarity 
and  Coadjacency.  Various  subsequent  writers  have  likewise 
viewed  Contrast  as  a  primitive  suggesting  force  of  our  intel- 
lectual constitution. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  objects  do,  on  many  occa- 
sions, bring  before  the  mind  their  contraries.  An  intense 
light  will  suggest  darkness  or  shade ;  present  sorrows  will 
bring  up  past  joys  ;  and  a  moment  of  brilliant  prosperity 
may  not  be  unfavourable  to  the  recollection  of  times  of 
adversity. 

Contrast  is  the  reproductive  phase  of  the  first  law  of 
mind — relativifi/,  or  Discrimination.  Everything  known  to 
us  is  known  in  connexion  with  something  else,  the  opposite 
or  negation  of  itself :  light  implies  darkness ;  heat  supposes 
cold.  Knowledge,  like  consciousness,  in  the  last  resort,  is  a 
transition  from  one  state  to  another ;  and  both  states  are 
included  in  the  act  of  knowing  either.  Nothing,  then,  can 
be  more  natural,  when  we  are  considering  any  one  property, 
than  the  disposition  to  revert  to  the  other  property  which 
makes  its  contrast  or  opposite — the  thing  denied  when  it  is 
affirmed.  '  Great '  would  have  no  meaning  to  us,  would 
never  have  been  named  or  marked  as  a  quality,  if  we  had 
not  had  before  us  things  of  unequal  magnitude, whose  diifer- 
ence  or  contrast  affected  our  minds  with  a  lively  impression. 
The  '  great '  is  great  only  because  there  is  a  something  else 
'  not  great,'  or  '  small '  :  even  when  we  imagine  we  are 
looking  at  the  single  property  greatness,  we  have  in  our 
minds  by  implication  the  alternative,  smallness ;  and  it  is 
only  like  reversing  the  magnet,  to  pass  to  the  explicit  con- 
sideration of  the  alternative — in  which  case,  the  other,  'great- 


600  COMPOUND   ASSOCIATION. 

ness,'  would  be  the  implied  property.  This  is  what  we  do, 
when  we  pass  from  one  member  of  a  contrast  to  the  other : 
both  members  must  be  in  consciousness  or  within  easyreach  of 
consciousness,  although  we  make  only  one  the  explicit  object 
of  consideration  for  the  time.  That  the  other  member  is 
still  before  us  in  a  manner,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that,  if  we 
have  been  long  absent  from  the  express  consideration  of  the 
alternative,  we  become  oblivious  to  the  force  of  the  principal. 
The  elfect  of  summer  warmth  continued  for  a  length  of  time, 
is  to  diminish  the  sense  of  warmth ;  a  few  wintry  days 
interpolated  would  revive  the  poignancy  of  the  sensation. 
When  a  meaning  is  but  dimly  perceived  by  any  one,  the 
fault  most  frequently  lies  in  the  non-recognition  of  the  op- 
posite— that  is,  the  thing  to  be  excluded  or  denied, — the  sup- 
pljdng  of  which  renders  the  notion  luminous  at  once.  Show 
a  child  a  rod,  and  tell  him  that  it  is  straight  ;  you  will  pro- 
bably convey  no  notion  whatever  to  his  mind.  But  present, 
at  the  same  time,  a  bent  rod,  and  say  that  it  is  not  straight, 
but  bent,  and  j^ou  impart  a  genuine  cognition.  Thus,  then, 
whenever  we  have  an  object  in  our  view,  we  have  by  impli- 
cation the  opposite  ;  we  can,  on  the  smallest  motive,  reverse 
the  couple,  which  is  to  pass  to  the  contrast.  Thinking  of 
'just,'  with  some  definite  meaning,  we  must  have  in  the 
mind,  only  in  a  less  prominent  shape,  the  notion  of  some 
things  that  would  be  the  reverse  of  just ;  and,  if  we  want  to 
make  the  idea  of  the  just  more  lively  and  definite  still,  we 
pass  for  a  time  to  the  explicit  consideration  of  those  '  not 
just '  things,  and  then  return  to  the  other.  In  Art,  contrast 
is  a  standing  ingredient,  and  hence  is  readily  suggested.  A 
scientific  expounder  is  aware  that,  to  add  the  '  antithesis '  or 
*  counter-proposition  '  is  only  completing  the  statement  ac- 
cording to  the  fundamental  law  of  cognition  :  hence,  in  him 
the  '  association  of  contrast,'  in  the  form  of  passing  from  the 
thing  affirmed  to  the  thing  denied,  is  a  settled  habit. 

19.  But,  further,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  other 
powers  of  the  intellect — Betentiveness  or  Contiguity,  and 
Similarity — concur  in  some  degree  with  the  primordial  prin- 


CONTRAST    SUPPOSES    SIMILARITY.  601 

ciple  of  Relation,  in  enabling  us  to  pass  from  one  thing 
to  its  contrast.  Thus,  as  regards  Contiguity,  it  happens 
that  the  greater  number  of  contrasts  are,  in  consequence 
of  their  necessary  proximity  from  the  nature  of  knowledge, 
habitually  coupled  in  common  speech ;  whence,  we  acquire 
a  tendency  to  pass  from  the  one  to  the  other  "by  mere 
rote,  like  completing  a  hackneyed  form  of  words.  Such 
associated  couples  as  white  and  black,  high  and  low,  up 
and  down,  large  and  small,  thick  and  thin,  weak  and  strong, 
good  and  bad,  3'oung  and  old,  rich  and  poor,  life  and  death, 
pain  and  pleasure,  true  and  false, — are  in  everybody's 
memory  ;  if  one  member  is  presented,  the  other  is  instantly 
ready  to  come  up.  Carlyle,  concluding  his  life  of  Friedrich, 
uses  the  expression  '  good  reader,  adieu '  :  the  habitual 
coupling  of  good  and  bad  operating  in  his  mind  leads  to 
the  suggestion,  which  he  adopts  from  its  comic  effect,  '  bad 
also,  adieu '.  Among  our  acquisitions  of  Contiguity,  these 
contrasting  pairs  are  very  numerous.  This  fact  alone  would 
suffice  to  render  contrasting  qualities  frequently  suggestive 
of  each  other. 

Xext,  as  to  Similarity.  It  is  an  old  maxim,  that  contraries 
imply  community  of  kind.  AVhere  there  is  nothing  common, 
there  can  be  no  opposition.  "\Ve  oppose  a  long  road  to  a  short 
road  :  we  do  not  oppose  a  long  road  to  a  loud  sound.  We  can 
contrast  black  with  white,  because  they  agree  in  kind— they 
are  both  colours  and  modes  of  light.  Thus  it  is,  that,  when 
any  quality  is  present  to  the  mind,  the  opposite  quality  never 
can  be  far  off,  seeing  that  this  is  only  another  species  of 
the  same  kind  of  object.  When  we  see  any  one  gaily 
attired,  the  subject  of  personal  decoration  is  brought  before 
the  view,  and  one  variety  of  it  suggests,  by  virtue  of  the 
generic  agreement,  other  varieties,  among  which  there  may 
occur  cases  of  squalor  or  meanness.  So,  when  we  encounter 
a  person  suddenly  deprived  of  means,  the  subject  of  human 
conditions  is  present  to  the  mind,  and,  by  Similarity,  other 
instances  may  be  brought  up  ;  the  mental  condition  of  the 
moment  operating  as  an  adjunct  to  determine  whether  the 


602  COMPOUND   ASSOCIATION. 

same  species  or  the  opposite  extreme  will  be  suggested.  Thus, 
a  giant  may  suggest  other  giants  by  similarity,  or  a  dwarf  by 
contrast,  according  to  the  mood  or  the  intellectual  attitude 
of  the  moment. 

20.  We  have,  further,  to  note  the  emotions  frequently 
aroused  by  contrasts. 

To  take  one  class  of  examples.  When  any  quality  is 
present  in  a  painful  excess,  the  opposite  quality  is  unavoid- 
ably suggested  as  a  remedy  to  the  evil.  Darkness  in  this  way 
causes  a  craving  for  light,  and  too  much  light  impels  us  to 
seek  the  shade.  So,  cold  and  heat,  hunger  and  repletion, 
exercise  and  rest,  and  many  other  things,  operate  in  the  same 
way. 

Again,  there  is  a  strong  emotion  of  the  poetic  or  artistic 
kind,  generated  by  many  contrasts.  We  are  moved  by  seeing 
infancy  and  age  placed  together ;  the  still  greater  contrast  of 
life  and  death  has  a  solemnizing  influence.  In  the  fortunes 
of  men  and  nations,  we  are  struck  with  the  conjunction  of  the 
high  and  the  low,  with  the  greatness  that  has  emerged  from 
obscurity,  and  the  pride  that  goeth  before  destruction.  This 
effect  has  been  worked  up  in  the  poetic  literature  of  nations. 
Among  the  Greeks,  the  idea  of  nemesis  was  an  intense,  ever- 
present  conception ;  even  the  accurate  mind  of  Herodotus 
was  superstitiously  sensitive  on  this  point.  In  no  age  has 
either  the  poet  or  the  moralist  allowed  the  reverses  of  human 
conditions  to  drop  out  of  the  view  of  the  multitude.  All  the 
contrasts  of  this  class  are,  therefore,  disposed  to  be  mutually 
suggestive  to  a  very  high  degree. 

Another  striking  example  of  the  influence  of  emotion  in 
determining  the  rise  of  thoughts,  is  furnished  by  the  well- 
known  feeling  called  the  love  of  contradiction.  The  clear 
expositor  of  truth  knows  that  contrast  is  a  means  of  illus- 
tration, and  is  moved,  on  that  ground,  to  pass  from  any  given 
idea  or  proposition  to  the  opposite ;  while  the  contentious 
disposition  produces  the  same  tendency  to  search  out  the 
contradictory  of  every  aflirmation  that  happens  to  be  brought 
forward. 


CONTRAST  CLEARS  THE  MIND  OF  CONTRADICTIONS.  60.H 

21.  A  better  use  of  the  reproductive  power  of  contrast,  is 
to  impel  us  to  unity  and  consistency  in  our  opinions  or 
beliefs.  If  we  hear  anything  stated  at  variance  with  some- 
thing formerly  known  or  believed,  we  are  likely  to  be 
reminded  of  the  previous  statement.  If  I  have  ever  affirmed, 
or  heard  any  one  aftirm,  that  the  Homeric  poems  were  the 
work  of  one  man,  and  if  now  I  am  asked  to  believe  that 
these  poems  were  composed  by  several  authors,  I  cannot  help 
being  reminded  of  the  opposite  view.  In  this  way,  the 
past  and  the  present  are  confronted  as  effectually  as  if  the 
opposites  had  been  affirmed  at  the  same  moment,  and  we 
are  thereupon  urged,  by  the  whole  force  of  revulsion  against 
inconsistency,  inherent  in  our  nature,  to  dismiss  one  or 
other  of  the  conflicting  opinions. 

The  power  of  Similarity,  under  the  guise  of  Contrast,  is 
thus  able  to  rid  the  mind  of  contradictions,  in  so  far  as  this 
can  be  done  by  bringing  the  conflicting  opinions  face  to  face. 
A  present  assertion  revives  any  past  assertion  that  may  have 
been  made  on  the  same  subject ;  and,  if  the  predicates  con- 
tradict each  other,  an  opportunity  is  given  for  choosing  be- 
tween the  two.  It  happens,  however,  in  fact,  that  the  same 
mind  will  at  different  times  maintain  irreconcilable  proposi- 
tions unawares.  Either  the  power  of  reinstatement  by 
similarity  is  too  feeble,  or  there  is  some  strong  feeling  operat- 
ing that  repels  the  approach  of  any  fact  not  in  accordance 
with  the  view  held  for  the  time  being.  Both  causes  are 
found  at  work.  In  an  average  intellect,  the  power  of  simi- 
larity is  not  energetic  enough  to  search  the  past  for  all  the 
statements  that  may  have  been  made  upon  any  subject  now  in 
hand ;  and  many  inconsistencies  are  too  subtle  for  the  detec- 
tion of  an  ordinary  mind.  When  we  add  to  this  intellectual 
feebleness  the  power  of  emotion — the  influence  of  the  likings 
and  dislikings, — we  have  a  sufficient  explanation  of  the  pres- 
ence of  contradiction  in  the  same  mind.  It  has  been  already 
observed,  that  a  strong  feeling  will  rebut  all  ideas  incompatible 
with  itself,  however  strongly  they  may  be  suggested  by  the 
forces  of  association.    I  can  suppose  the  Apostle  Peter  to  have 


604  COMPOUND   ASSOCIATION. 

been  unconscious  of  contradicting  himself  within  a  few  hours, 
when  under  excitement  for  his  personal  safety.  The  strong 
affirmations  he  had  so  lately  made  on  the  very  same  subject 
might  not  even  have  come  into  his  mind.  A  current  of 
violent  emotion,  besides  overbearing  hostile  considerations 
that  may  be  actually  before  the  mind,  can  so  obstruct,  I 
might  almost  say  paralyze,  the  workings  of  association,  that 
such  considerations,  however  near,  shall  not  be  allowed  to 
come  on  the  stage.  This  is  one  of  the  characteristic  influ- 
ences of  emotions.  Intellect  cannot  perform  its  ordinary 
functions  in  the  presence  of  strong  feeling.  The  accordance 
or  discordance  of  objects  and  recollected  ideas  with  the 
present  emotion,  is  so  powerful  that  the  purely  intellectual 
links  may  have  but  a  small  share  in  the  resuscitation.  The 
tendency  of  intellect  proper  is  to  banish  all  contradictions 
from  the  mind — in  other  words,  to  arrive  at  consistency,  the 
test  of  truth  :  the  tendency  of  men's  emotions  of  all  kinds 
runs  counter  to  this,  and  renders  the  spectacle  of  a  thoroughly 
consistent  human  being  no  less  rare  than  admirable. 


CHAPTEE   IV. 

CONSTRUCTIVE   ASSOCIATION. 

By  means  of  Association,  the  mind  has  the  power  to 
form  new  combinations,  or  aggregates,  different  from 
any  that  have  been  presented  to  it  in  the  course  of 
experience. 

1.  rriHROUGHOUT  the  whole  of  the  preceding  exposition, 
J-  we  have  had  in  view  the  hteral  resuscitation,  revival, 
or  reinstatement  of  former  actions,  images,  emotions,  and 
trains  of  thought.  No  special  reference  has  been  made  to 
the  operations  known  by  such  names  as  Imagination,  Crea- 
tion, Constructiveness,  Origination,  Inventiveness  ;  through 
whichi  we  are  supposed  to  put  together  new  forms,  or  to  give 
birth  to  images,  conceptions,  pictures,  and  modes  of  working, 
such  as  we  have  never  before  had  any  experience  of.  Yet, 
the  genius  of  the  Painter,  the  Poet,  the  Musician,  and  the 
Inventor  in  the  arts  and  sciences,  evidently  implies  a  process, 
of  this  nature. 

Under  the  head  of  Similarity,  we  have  had  to  trace  the 
workings  of  a  power  tending  to  originality  and  invention,  as 
when — in  virtue  of  the  identifying  of  two  things  lying  far  apart 
in  nature — whatever  is  known  of  the  one  is  instantly 
transferred  to  the  other,  thereby  constituting  a  new  and 
instructive  combination  of  ideas.  Such  was  the  case  when 
Franklin's  identification  of  electricity  and  thunder  led  to 
the  application  of  the  Leyden  jar  to  explain  a  thunder- 
storm. The  power  of  recalling  like  by  like,  in  spite  of 
remoteness,  disguise,  and  false  lures,  enters,  as  we  have  seen, 
into  a  very  large  number  of  inventive  efforts,  both  in  the 


606  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

sciences  and  in  the  arts.  But  we  have  now  to  deal  with 
constructions  of  a  higher  order  of  complexity.  There  are 
discoveries  that  seem  nothing  short  of  absolute  creations — 
as,  for  example,  the  whole  science  of  Mathematics ;  while,  in 
the  Fine  Arts,  a  frieze  of  the  Parthenon,  a  Gothic  cathedral,  a 
Paradise  Lost,  are  very  far  beyond  the  highest  stretches  of 
the  identifying  faculty  taken  by  itself. 

Nevertheless,  the  intellectual  forces  operating  in  those 
creations  are  no  other  than  the  associating  forces  already 
discussed.  The  new  combinations  grow  out  of  elements 
already  possessed  by  the  mind,  and  brought  to  view  according 
to  the  laws  already  laid  down. 

MECHANICAL  CONSTRUCTIVENESS. 

2.  In  our  mechanical  education,  complex  and  difficult 
actions  are  acquired  by  taking  the  simple  acts  separately. 
We  learn  part  No.  1  by  itself;  then  part  No.  2,  No.  3,  and 
the  rest  :  when  each  of  these  parts  is  attained,  an  effort  of 
volition  joins  them  together. 

Mechanical  combinations  are  usually  formed  by  succes- 
sive additions.  A  certain  movement  is  mastered ;  another 
is  entered  on  by  itself,  and  when  mastered  is  added  to  the 
first.  In  military  drill,  in  learning  to  manipulate,  or  to  dance, 
each  step  is  practised  alone ;  when  two  have  been  attained 
in  separation,  they  can  be  performed  together,  merely  by 
wilhng  it.  A  third  and  fourth  are  added,  in  the  same  way. 
There  is  no  new  difficulty  in  grouping  or  combining  the 
distinct  operations.  Any  awkwardness  in  the  united  effort 
is  mainly  owing  to  the  separate  parts  not  being  fully  con- 
firmed. 

Our  mechanical  acquirements  often  demand  the  sup2ires- 
sion  of  one  member  of  a  complex  action — a  decomposition,  as 
it  were,  of  some  of  the  primitive  associated  movements.  In 
this  case,  a  voluntary  effort  is  directed  upon  the  member 
whose  movement  is  to  be  suppressed.  In  walking,  there  is 
.a  natural  tendency  to  swing  the  arms  and  the  body  along 


PERVADING    CONDITIONS    OF    CONSTRUCTIYENESS.        607 

with  the  lower  limbs.  By  a  volition,  these  extra  movements 
may  be  arrested,  and  the  primitive  aggregate  reduced  to  a 
more  select  aggregate. 

Learning  to  swim  is  a  good  example  to  show  what  re- 
mains to  be  done  in  mechanical  combination,  after  the  sepa- 
rate acts  are  fullv  mastered.  The  beginner  includes  among 
previous  acquisitions  the  vokintary  control  of  the  arms,  and 
of  the  lower  limbs.  Perhaps,  indeed,  this  control  needs  to 
be  improved  as  respects  the  swimming  movements  :  accord- 
ingly, the  first  thing  is  to  practise  the  separate  acts  of 
throwing  out  the  arms  and  the  legs.  The  next  thing  is  to 
bring  them  together,  in  the  proper  rhythm  or  combination. 
There  being,  however,  a  certain  delicacy  of  adjustment,  the 
learner  does  not  succeed  at  the  first  attempt.  A'arious  tenta- 
tives  are  made;  and  at  last,  by  chance,  the  rhythm  is  hit 
upon,  and,  being  hit  upon,  is  persisted  in.  The  moment 
of  a  successful  achievement,  after  struggles,  is  singularly 
favourable  to  the  cohesive  process,  according  to  the  law  of 
awakened  and  concentrated  attention  ;  and  the  happy  com- 
bination is  already  cemented  to  such  a  degree  that  fewer 
tentatives  are  required  on  the  second  occasion.  By  two  or 
three  more  repetitions,  the  fusion  is  complete.  The  use 
of  the  razor  in  shaving  may  be  quoted  as  another  example 
in  point. 

In  the  full  detail  of  Constructiveuess,  we  shall  have  to 
exemplify  these  three  main  conditions  : — namely,  (1)  a  pre- 
vious command  of  the  elements  entering  into  the  combma- 
tion ;  (2)  a  sense  of  the  effect  to  be  produced ;  and  (3)  a 
voluntary  process  of  trial  and  error  continued  until  the 
desired  effect  is  actually  produced. 

\T:RBAL   CONSTRUCTm:NESS. 

3.  The  facility  in  passing  from  mere  iteration  into  new 
combinations  is,  perhaps,  most  obvious  in  the  use  of  lan- 
guage. Few  successions  of  words  of  any  length,  uttered  in 
everyday  intercourse,  are  precisely  identical  with  any  succes- 


608  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

sion  formerly  said  or  heard  by  the  speaker.  Yet,  we  find  it 
easy  to  adapt  the  old  to  new  purposes. 

In  the  early  efforts  of  imitation,  whereby  words  are  first 
mastered,  there  is  a  constructive  process.  Tha  child  has 
learned  to  say  ha  and  na,  and  when  these  separate  sounds 
become  very  easy  to  the  organs,  a  chance  impulse  makes 
them  run  together  into  ban.  Here,  as  before,  the  ripeness  of 
the  preliminary  acquirements  separately  is  the  first  condi- 
tion of  a  successful  union. 

After  acquiring  a  certain  number  of  words,  and  a  few 
simple  forms  of  sentences,  new  forms  are  produced.  The 
child  has  learned  to  say  '  give  me,'  and  also  the  names  of  a 
number  of  persons  and  things,  '  mamma,'  '  pussy,'  '  dolly  '  ; 
and,  having  the  wish  to  give  something  to  one  of  these, 
finds  no  difficulty  in  displacing  '  me '  from  the  formula, 
and  admitting  '  mamma,'  'pussy,'  as  the  case  may  be.  An 
effort  of  volition  is  implied.  Two  utterances  are  present 
to  the  mind :  the  articulate  activity  is  awakened,  and 
repeats  these  utterances  perhaps  in  two  or  three  ways ; 
one  is  hit  upon,  such  as  to  satisfy  the  purpose  of  the 
moment,  and,  being  hit  upon,  is  retained  and  repeated. 
The  effort  of  substitution,  once  or  twice  put  in  practice, 
becomes  easy ;  the  mind  knows,  as  it  were,  to  carry  on  the 
current  of  words  so  far,  then  to  stop,  and  to  fall  into  a 
different  current,  so  as  thereby  to  produce  a  third  different 
from  either.  It  is  a  part  of  the  voluntary  command  of  our 
movements,  to  stop  a  sequence  at  any  stage,  and  to  com- 
mence another  train  from  that  point ;  which  is  all  that  is 
necessary  in  the  case  supposed.  Out  of  the  two  sentences, 
'  I  am  going  out  for  the  day,'  'I  am  coming  home  for  the 
night,'  a  third  sentence  is  constructed,  '  I  am  going  out  for 
the  night,'  by  no  further  effort  of  volition  than  this — namely, 
to  arrest  the  current  of  articulation  at  a  certain  point  in  the 
first,  to  pass  into  the  second,  suspending  vocal  articulation 
till  the  word  '  the  '  is  reached,  then  to  tack  on  the  remainder, 
'  night,'  to  the  words  already  enounced  from  the  other.  The 
constructiveness,  therefore,  lies,  not  in  any  purely  intellectual 


CONSTRUCTING    NEW    SENTENCES.  609 

operation,  but  in  the  command  that  the  volition  has  ob- 
tained over  the  movements,  by  virtue  of  which  command 
these  are  suspended  and  commenced  at  pleasure,  in  the 
service  of  a  particular  end.  The  intellectual  forces  bring  to 
mind  the  former  acquisitions  bearing  on  the  situation ; 
and,  if  no  one  previous  form  is  strictly  applicable,  the 
volition  singles  out  part  of  one  and  part  of  another,  and 
makes  successive  trials,  if  need  be,  until  tlie  want  is 
satisfied. 

Throughout  the  whole  wide-ranging  operation  of  adapting 
old  forms  of  words  to  new  meanings,  this  is  essentially  the 
process  pursued.  When  all  the  elements  requisite  for  a  new 
combination  are  at  hand,  a  volition  alone  is  needed  to  make 
the  selection  and  adaptation  suited  to  the  end  in  view.  When 
there  is  not  a  sufficiency  of  forms  within  reach  of  the  present 
recollection,  the  processes  of  intellectual  recovery  must  be 
plied  to  bring  up  others,  until  the  desired  combination  is 
attained.  A  voluntary  effort  is  quite  equal  to  the  task  of 
cutting  down  and  making  up,  choosing  and  rejecting,  sorting 
and  re-sorting  :  the  feeling  of  the  end  to  he  served  is  the  criterion 
to  judge  by,  and  when  this  is  satisfied,  the  volition  ceases, 
the  stimulus  being  no  longer  present.  In  all  difficult  opera- 
tions for  purposes  or  ends,  the  rule  of  '  trial  and  error '  is  the 
grand  and  final  resort. 

It  would  thus  appear  that  the  first  condition  of  verbal 
combinations  for  the  expression  of  meaning,  is  a  sufficient 
abundance  of  already  formed  combinations  to  choose  from  ; 
in  other  words,  the  effect  depends  on  the  previous  acquisitions, 
and  on  the  associating  forces  whereby  old  forms  are  revived 
for  the  new  occasion.  If  a  complex  meaning  has  to  be  ex- 
pressed, every  part  of  this  meaning  will  revive,  by  contiguity 
and  similarity,  some  former  idea  of  an  identical  or  like  nature, 
and  the  language  therewith  associated ;  and,  out  of  the  mixed 
assemblage  of  foregone  phrases,  the  volition  must  combine  a 
whole  into  the  requisite  unity,  by  trial  and  error.  The  more 
abundant  and  choice  the  material  supplied  from  the  past  by 
the   forces  of  intellectual  recovery,  the  better  will  be  the 

39 


610  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

combination  that  it  is  possible  for  the  mind  to  form  by  the 
selecting  effort. 

4.  Let  us  next  advert  to  some  of  the  higher  conditions  that 
have  to  be  attended  to,  in  making  verbal  combinations.  Be- 
sides conveying  a  meaning,  certain  grammatical  forms  have  to 
be  observed;  likewise,  there  are  rhetorical  properties  or  rules 
of  good  taste ;  a  certain  melody  or  cadence  is  sought  to  be 
imparted;  and,  in  poetic  composition,  the  other  qualities  have 
to  be  attained  under  the  restrictions  of  metre  and  rhyme.  As  a 
matter  of  course,  the  more  numerous  the  requirements,  the 
more  diiiicult  it  is  to  satisfy  them  all ;  but  the  mode  of  pro- 
ceeding is  not  altered  in  any  essential  point.  When  there  are 
four  or  five  different  conditions  to  satisfy,  the  range  of  choice 
must  be  so  much  the  wider.  It  is  not  enough  that  I  can  com- 
bine one  form  of  words  sufficient  to  express  a  certain  mean- 
ing ;  I  must  be  able  from  my  verbal  resources,  recovered  from 
the  past,  to  construct  several  forms  all  equally  good  as  regards 
meaning,  so  that  I  may  be  able  to  choose  the  one  that  satisfies 
the  other  conditions  as  well.  In  fact,  the  mind  must  possess, 
not  one  way  of  bringing  out  a  certain  effect,  but  a  plurality 
of  ways ;  and,  out  of  this  plurality,  we  fix  upon  the  form  that 
yields  some  second  effect  also  desired.  If  a  third  effect  is 
wanted,  there  must  be  a  power  of  altering  the  combination 
already  made,  without  losing  the  previous  effects ;  and  for 
this  end,  we  must  be  able  to  command  a  choice  of  equivalent 
phrases,  in  the  room  of  those  that  are  discordant  as  regards 
the  new  end.*  Thus  it  is  that  we  must  have  a  plurality  of 
ways  of  expressing  any  given  meaning,  a  plurality  of  forms 
of  the  same  grammatical  construction,  a  plurality  of  forms  of 
the  same  rhetorical  propriety,  and  a  great  variety  of  sequences 
observing  the  same  cadence.    Through  such  opulence  of  syno- 

*  Southey's  lines  on  the  Fall  of  Lodorc  are  au  instance  to  show  that  a 
word-artist  is  a  person  that  can  bring  up  for  any  occasion  a  large  variety  of 
names  for  the  same  thing.  It  is  by  means  of  this  abundance  of  past  and 
recoverable  phraseology,  that  the  elaborate  constructions  of  high  composition 
are  at  all  possible.  The  number  of  words  that  pass  across  the  mind  in  form- 
ing a  single  couplet  may  be  a  hundred  times  those  actually  made  use  of. 


COMPOSITION    IN    LANGUAGE.  611 

iiyms,  we,  at  last,  light  upon  a  combination  that  satisfies  all 
the  requirements  of  the  case.  The  refusal  to  combine  in  any 
instance  can  be  met  only  by  bringing  forward  new  varieties  of 
phrase, — sometiines  by  the  bond  of  meaning,  at  other  times  by 
the  bond  of  grammar,  of  taste,  or  of  cadence.  The  more  richly 
stored  the  mind  is  on  any  one  of  those  particulars — that  is,  the 
greater  the  number  of  words  associated  with  meanings,  with 
melodious  cadences,  and  so  forth — the  more  surely  will  that 
one  condition  be  observed,  whatever  may  become  of  the 
rest.  If  the  tendency  has  been  to  lay  up  stores  of  ex- 
pressions adapted  to  the  conveyance  of  meaning,  there  will 
be  no  difficulty  in  matching  a  new  meaning,  although  there 
may  be  a  difficulty  in  getting  the  language  to  comply  with 
the  other  requisites.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  through  a  great 
susceptibility  to  cadence,  and  by  the  mind  being  very  much 
versed  in  melodious  forms  of  speech,  these  forms  be  ready  to 
occur  in  great  abundance  on  all  occasions,  the  flow  of  speech 
will  be  sure  to  be  musical,  but  there  will  be  no  security  for 
the  fulfilment  of  the  remaining  conditions  ;  and  it  may 
happen  that  both  sense  and  grammar  are  neglected.  In 
poetry,  metre  has  to  be  satisfied  after  all  other  conditions 
have  been  provided  for,  leading  often  to  the  necessity  of 
dropping  or  changing  some  words  or  phrases  that  the  other 
requirements  might  desiderate.  Still,  out  of  the  abundance 
of  choice  presented,  a  patient  mind  may  seize  upon  forms 
that  shall  not  be  devoid  of  any  of  the  other  important  at- 
tributes. Or,  if  the  first  suggestion  of  the  wording  of  a 
sentence  is  governed  by  associations  with  meaning,  it  will 
be  easy  for  such  a  mind  to  make  substitutions  and  altera- 
tions to  meet  the  rhetorical  condition. 

One  of  our  familiar  examples  of  contiguous  association  is  the 
utterance  of  a  name  on  the  presentation  of  the  thing  named. 
There  are,  besides,  innumerable  instances  of  a  more  complex 
effect  :  as  when  some  object  occurring  to  the  view  is  not  pro- 
vided with  a  simple  recognized  designation,  but  needs  to  be  accom- 
modated with  something  not  already  in  use,  and  requiring  to  be 
constructed  for  the  occasion — for  example,  when  we  encounter  a 


612  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

shade  of  colour  not  provided  with  a  term  in  the  current  voca- 
bulary of  colours.  This  is  merely  a  first  step  leading  on  to 
the  higher  combinations  of  language,  by  which  a  speaker  pro- 
vides expression  for  more  and  more  complicated  objects  and 
situations  rising  successively  into  his  view. 

The  transition  from  pure  Similarity  to  Constructiveness  is 
often  seen  in  the  similes  of  poetry.  Examples  are  abundant 
in  Paradise  Lost, — as  in  the  well-known  passage  on  Sin  and 
Death  and  the  Vulture  in  the  third  book. 

FEELINGS  OF  MOVEMENT. 

5.  We  next  proceed  to  exemplify  constructiveness  among 
our  feelings  and  ideas. 

Movement  gives  rise,  as  has  been  seen,  to  a  variety  of 
conscious  states  ;  some  emotional,  as  the  states  of  exercise 
and  repose,  and  others  v^ith  an  almost  exclusively  intellectual 
character,  as  the  feeling  of  pressure,  space,  and  form.  I 
shall  here  take  a  few  examples  of  the  second  kind. 

Having  acquired  a  discriminative  sensibility  correspond- 
ing to  some  one  resistance  or  pressure,  we  are  enabled  to 
construct  the  feeling  of  another  differing  in  degree.  I  pos- 
sess in  my  hand,  after  much  practice,  the  engrained  impres- 
sion, say,  of  a  pound  weight ;  and  I  am  commanded  to  con- 
struct, conceive,  or  imagine,  the  impression  corresponding 
to  three  pounds.  For  this  end,  I  must  endeavour  to  fuse 
the  two  notions  of  one  pound  and  of  a  triple,  being  formerly 
very  familiar  with  both  in  their  separation ;  the  notion  of 
tripleness  being  derived  from  the  experience  of  the  fact  in 
quantities  of  various  kinds.  By  keeping  the  attention  very 
much  bent  upon  the  two  elements  in  question,  I  may 
succeed  in  conjuring  up  an  impression  compounded  of  both, 
and  corresponding  more  or  less  to  the  actual  feeling  of  a 
three-pound  weight  in  my  hand. 

We  are  not  unfrequently  called  upon  to  make  efforts  im- 
plying this  sort  of  adaptation.  If  I  have  been  accustomed 
to  jump  a  ditch  three  feet  wide,  I  can  easily  increase  the 
notion  for  an  effort  of  five  feet.     So,  in  throwing  objects  to 


CONSTRUCTIVENESS  IN  THE  FEELING  OF  ARCHITECTUEE.     613 

hit  a  mark ;  in  which  case,  the  constructiveness  is  first 
operated  upon  the  pre-conceived  idea  of  the  action,  before 
passing  to  the  action  itself. 

The  same  power  of  changing  degree  may  be  put  forth  in 
reference  to  size  and  form.  Having  acquired  the  arm-sensi- 
bihty  to  a  sweep  of  one  foot,  we  can  construct  a  feehng 
corresponding  to  the  sweep  of  two  feet,  or  half  a  foot.  We 
can  also  change  a  given  area  from  one  form  to  another.  By 
fixing  the  mind  upon  the  form  of  a  circle,  and  the  area  of  a 
square  pane  of  glass,  we  can  construct  the  conception  of  a 
round  piece  whose  diameter  is  the  side  of  the  square. 

The  demand  for  certain  Architectural  proportions  in 
buildings  supposes  an  effort  of  the  constructive  faculty, 
applied  to  the  muscular  feelings  of  weight  and  resistance. 
By  moving  and  lifting  pieces  of  stone  of  small  size,  we 
acquire  a  certain  estimate  of  the  inertia  and  gravity  of  the 
material ;  an  estimate  that  we  extend  constructively  to 
large  blocks,  w^hich  we  cannot  directly  manipulate.  By 
multiplying  known  feelings  of  muscular  expenditure,  we 
conceive,  perhaps  inadequately,  the  weight  of  a  solid  stone 
lintel ;  and  by  similarly  multiplying  our  experiences,  on  the 
small  scale,  of  the  tenacity  of  stone,  wood,  or  iron,  to  resist 
pressure,  we  pronounce  upon  the  sufficiency  of  two  props 
of  stone,  of  wood,  or  of  iron  to  sustain  that  lintel.  Such  is 
our  feeling  of  Architectural  fitness,  or  of  the  sufficient  in 
support. 

The  emotional  feelings  of  movement  present  a  some- 
what different  case.  Under  the  two  next  heads,  I  shall 
adduce  examples  of  emotional  constructiveness  in  general. 

CONSTRUCTIVENESS  IN  THE  SENSATIONS. 

6.  Beginning  with  Organic  sensibility,  we  might  cite 
instances  of  constructiveness,  in  the  endeavour  to  conceive 
pains  or  hurts  of  a  different  kind  from  any  we  have  experi- 
enced. We  can,  as  usual,  make  the  change  of  degree ;  and, 
if  the  new  state  is  either  a  combination,  or  a  disjunction,  of 


614  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

two  already  familiar   to  us,   we  may  hope  to  succeed  in 
evoking  it. 

The  agreeable  and  joyous  states  of  organic  sensibility  are 
very  various.  Each  one  of  us  has  experience  of  some  of 
them  ;  and,  starting  from  these,  we  may  be  made  to  conceive 
others,  if  the  description — that  is,  the  method  of  compound- 
ing the  known  into  the  known — be  clearly  given.  I  may 
never  have  experienced  the  ecstasy  of  intoxication  by  opium ; 
but,  if  I  have  felt  a  number  of  states  whose  combination 
would  amount  to  this  effect,  and  if  these  are  pointed  out  to 
me,  I  may,  by  an  effort,  recall  and  fuse  them  into  one  whole, 
so  as  to  construct  the  feeling  in  question.  This  is  by  no 
means  an  easy  undertaking  to  the  generality  of  people  ;  and 
the  reason  is,  that  the  strong  organic  feelings  are  not  readily 
recoverable  at  all  times  in  their  entire  fulness.  Some  one 
leading  element  of  the  combination  sought  would  require  to 
be  present  in  the  reality ;  and  then  it  might  be  possible  to 
bring  up  others,  and  to  form  a  new  conception,  by  introduc- 
ing the  requisite  modifications.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  this 
method  has  disadvantages  :  it  is  not  easy  to  modify  a  strong 
and  present  reality  by  mere  ideas ;  it  would  be  more  practic- 
able to  modify  a  mere  recollection,  which  is  itself  ideal.  The 
non-intellectual  nature  of  the  organic  feelings,  rendering  them 
stubborn  to  recall,  however  powerful  they  be  in  the  actual, 
is  the  great  obstacle  to  our  easily  conceiving  non-experienced 
varieties  of  them.  A  person  may  have  enjoyed  the  pleasures 
of  eating,  in  a  sufficient  number  of  forms  to  possess  all  the 
elements  necessary  for  conceiving  the  most  luxurious  feast 
that  ever  man  sat  down  to  ;  yet,  it  might  not  be  possible  to 
attain  to  the  conception.  The  difficulty  of  forming  new  com- 
binations, in  some  one  region  of  sensations,  is  only  another 
form  of  the  difficulty  of  retaining  and  recovering  our  own 
experiences  in  that  region.  If  I  cannot  easily  conceive  a 
degree,  or  kind  of  hunger,  beyond  anything  I  have  ever 
known,  it  is  because  the  states  of  hunger  that  I  have  actu- 
ally experienced  cannot  be  well  restored  after  they  have 
completely  passed  away. 


CONCEIVING   OF    INEXPERIENCED    TASTES.  615 

Inasmuch  as  Tastes,  properly  so  called,  are  somewhat 
more  intellectual  than  organic  states,  we  can  do  more  in  the 
way  of  forming  new  combinations  of  them.  Given  a  bitter, 
such  as  bitter  aloes,  and  a  saline  taste,  as  of  common  salts,  we 
might  construct  a  taste  combined  of  the  two.  So,  a  sweet 
and  an  astringent  might  be  fused.  We  might  thus  attain  to 
the  conception  of  tastes  not  actually  experienced.  The  effort 
would  doubtless  be  laborious  in  most  instances,  chiefly  owing 
to  the  imperfect  recollection  that  we  have  of  tastes,  even 
after  much  repetition.  A  person  specially  educated  in  tasting 
would  have  so  much  the  less  difficulty.  And,  if  we  wished 
to  retain  and  revive  the  new  conception,  and  to  make  it  a 
possession  of  the  mind,  as  much  so  as  the  taste  of  sugar,  we 
should  need  an  amount  of  repetition  sufficient  for  the  ideal 
coherence  of  the  elements  brought  together. 

7.  Without  dwelling  upon  the  almost  parallel  case  of 
smells,  I  shall  pass  to  the  first  of  the  intellectual  senses. 
Touch,  including  the  muscular  feelings  associated  with  the 
proper  tactile  sensibilities,  furnishes  a  more  abiding  species  of 
recollections  than  the  sensations  just  noticed,  and  we  may, 
therefore,  look  for  a  higher  degree  of  combining  power  among 
the  feelings  characteristic  of  this  sense.  I  can  acquire  the 
touch  of  an  orange, — that  is,  the  bulk,  the  weight,  and  the 
softness  of  the  surface.  I  have  acquired  also  the  touch  of  a 
marble  table,  and  the  weight  of  marble  as  compared  with 
other  substances.  By  a  voluntary  exertion  of  the  mind, 
directing  the  view  on  the  round  figure  of  the  orange,  and  on 
the  touch  and  specific  gravity  of  the  marble,  I  might  make 
to  emerge  a  new  perception — the  collective  impression  of  a 
marble  ball  equal  in  size  to  the  orange.  Part  of  the  diffi- 
culty, in  this  trial,  consists  in  the  disassociatijiy  or  separating 
of  elements  that  have  grown  together  in  the  mind — an 
exercise  commonly  spoken  of  as  an  effort  of  abstraction,  or 
analysis,  and  arduous,  on  the  one  hand,  according  to  the 
strong  hold  that  the  property  to  be  disassociated  has  taken 
of  the  mind,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  according  to  the  weak 
hold  that  we  have  of  the  property  to  be  substituted.     If  I 


616  CONSTEUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

were  very  strongly  affected  by  the  peculiar  soft  touch  of  the 
orange,  and  had  very  little  interest  in  the  cold  hard  contact 
of  the  marble,  there  would  be  a  repugnance  in  my  mind  to 
the  proposed  transmutation ;  and  the  effort  of  abstractive 
or  analytic  volition,  preparatory  to  the  new  combination, 
would  be  severe.  A  mind  sensitive  to  the  warm  and 
sensuous  elements  of  touch  and  colour,  revolts  from  the 
operation,  so  familiar  to  the  mathematician,  of  stripping 
these  off,  leaving  only  naked  forms  and  arbitrary  symbols 
to  engage  the  intellect.  The  double  decompositions,  illus- 
trated by  the  above  example,  are  made  laborious  by  every 
circumstance  that  favours  in  the  mind  a  preference  for  the 
combinations  already  existing,  and  correspondingly  easy, 
when  there  is  a  partiality  for  the  new  combination  that  is 
to  be  the  result.  Thus,  even  when  we  operate  upon  subjects 
very  conceivable  and  retainable,  unlike  the  organic  sensa- 
tions lately  noticed,  new  difficulties  may  arise  to  clog  the 
constructive  operation.  The  mere  effort  of  analysis  is  itself 
something  considerable  :  it  is  not  a  favourite  avocation  of 
the  untutored  mind,  with  which  associative  growth  is  more 
congenial  than  disassociating  surgery ;  and,  when  the 
analysis  has  to  be  applied  to  break  up  favourite  combina- 
tions, and  constitute  others  of  an  unattractive  kind,  we 
become  aware  of  the  tyrannical  influence  that  the  likings 
and  dislikings,  the  sympathies  and  antipathies,  exert  over 
the  intellectual  processes. 

The  very  great  difference  between  the  constructions  of 
Imagination  and  the  combinations  for  Practice  or  for 
Science  is  herein  faintly  shadowed  forth. 

In  the  definition,  or  description,  of  the  tactile  quality  of 
surfaces — woods,  cloths,  minerals,  metals, — reference  must 
be  made  to  touches  familiar  to  us,  by  whose  combination  we 
are  supposed  to  attain  the  feeling  of  a  surface  not  experi- 
enced.    Touch  is  one  of  the  defining  properties  of  minerals. 

8.  In  the  very  various  states  of  mind  excited  through  the 
sense  of  Hearing,  there  is  wide  scope  for  new  combinations 
and  constructions  ;  the  mode  of  operating  being  much  the 


HEARING. — SIGHT.  617 

same  as  in  the  preceding  instances.  We  may  hear  a  note,  or 
an  air,  sounded  by  an  instrmnent  or  voice,  and  may  wish  to 
imagine  it  as  a  different  instrument  or  voice.  According  as  we 
have  a  good  mental  grasp  of  the  air,  and  of  the  tones  of  the 
second  instrument,  the  less  effort  would  be  needed  for  this 
transference.  We  have  heard  a  piece  performed  on  a  fine 
band ;  and  we  desire  to  conceive  the  effect  of  some  other 
piece  performed  on  the  same  band.  Some  faint  approach 
to  such  a  combination  might  be  attained,  but  the  exercise  is 
not  one  that  is  much  attempted.  Few  people  engage  in  an 
occupation  of  this  nature,  or  endeavour  to  create  to  them- 
selves non-experienced  impressions  with  an  approach  to  the 
vividness  of  reality. 

'  Imagine  Macready,  or  Kachel,  delivering  that  passage. 
We  have  heard  the  passage,  and  we  have  heard  Macready. 
A  constructive  effort,  taking  place  upon  firm  recollections  of 
the  two  things  to  be  combined,  might  be  successful  in  such 
an  instance.  A  good  imitator,  or  mimic,  actually  succeeds 
in  modifying  his  recollections  of  his  original  to  suit  an 
entirely  new  discourse.  The  ability  to  make  the  combina- 
tion, as  in  all  other  cases,  rests  in  the  first  instance  on  the 
full  possession  of  the  separate  elements. 

9.  Under  Sight,  the  sense  of  easy  conception  by  pre- 
eminence, the  examples  of  cunstructiveness  are  necessarily 
copious.  Light  and  shade,  colour,  lustre,  visible  size  or 
dimensions,  shape,  distance,  position, — are  the  constituents 
that  unite  in  the  complex  perceptions  of  sight ;  and  it  is 
possible  to  vary  any  given  combination,  by  putting  out  and 
taking  in  elements  at  pleasure.  I  see  or  remember  a  line  of 
houses ;  I  can  imagine  it  prolonged  to  double  or  triple  the 
length  ;  or  I  can  transform  the  whole  line  by  the  addition  of 
a  story  to  the  height.  In  the  landscape,  I  see  a  mountain  and 
a  wood  standing  apart ;  I  place  the  wood  upon  the  mountain. 
Or  to  take  Hobbes's  example  of  constructiveness  :*  I  have 

*  '  As  when  the  water,  or  any  liquid  thing  moved  at  once  by  divers  move- 
ments, receiveth  one  motion  compounded  of  them  all ;  so  also  the  brain,  or 
spirit  therein,  having  been  stirred  by  divers  objects,  composeth  an  imagination 


618  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

the  idea  of  a  mountain  and  the  idea  of  gold,  and  by  super- 
imposing the  one  upon  the  other,  I  can  evoke  the  image  of  a 
mountain  of  gold.  Another  example  given  by  him  is  the 
joining  of  a  man  and  a  horse  to  make  the  Centaur.  The 
facility  in  all  such  cases  depends,  as  usual,  on  the  perfect 
and  easy  command  the  mind  has  of  the  separate  ideas,  owing 
to  their  good  ideal  persistence.  The  combination  takes  place 
of  its  own  accord,  if  the  elements  are  once  properly  brought 
together  and  kept,  as  it  were,  in  close  contact  for  a  sufficient 
time.  A  continuance  of  the  effort  will  enable  us  to  retain  the 
new  image,  until  the  parts  of  it  acquire  a  certain  contiguous 
adhesiveness ;  after  which  we  shall  possess  it  as  a  mental  re- 
collection not  differing  essentially  from  the  recollections  of 
things  actually  seen.  As  in  former  examples,  the  decom- 
position and  recomposition,  implied  m  the  constructive  effort, 
may  be  aided  or  thwarted  by  emotions.  Hobbes's  mountain 
of  gold  would  emerge  the  more  readily  that  the  image  is  one 
to  excite  men's  feelings ;  being  an  example  of  imagination  in 
the  more  limited  sense  of  the  word,  or  in  that  sense  wherein 
lies  the  contrast  between  it  and  the  creations  of  the  intellect  for 
scientific  or  practical  ends.  If  I  see  a  dress,  and  want  to 
conceive  it  of  some  other  colour,  I  can  most  easily  substitute 
either  the  colour  that  I  am  most  familiar  with,  or  the  one 
that  I  have  a  special  affection  for. 

The  re-disposing  of  the  parts  of  an  interior,  or  a  scene, 
severely  tests  the  constructive  faculty.  Wishing  to  re- 
arrange the  furniture  of  a  room,  I  endeavour  to  conceive 
beforehand  the  effect  of  a  proposed  arrangement.  So,  with 
a  garden  :  a  person  must  have  a  good  retentiveness  of  the 
ideas  of  the  parts,  in  order  to  put  together,  and  hold  firmly, 

of  divers  conceptions  that  appeareth  single  to  the  sense.  As  for  example,  the 
sense  showeth  at  one  time  the  figure  of  a  moimtain,  and  at  another  time  the 
colour  of  gold ;  but  the  imagination  afterwards  hath  them  both  at  once  in  a 
golden  mountain.  From  the  same  cause  it  is,  there  appear  unto  us  castles  in 
the  air,  chimeras,  and  other  monsters  which  are  not  in  rcrum  natura,  but  have 
been  conceived  by  the  sense  in  pieces  at  several  times.  And  this  composition 
is  that  which  we  commonly  call  fiction  of  the  mind '  {Human  Nature, 
chap,  iii.,  §  4). 


FORECASTING    A    NEW    ARRANGEMENT    OF    THINGS.       61^ 

the  new  plan,  so  as  to  judge  of  the  effect  of  it  before  taking 
any  measures  to  realize  it.  An  intellect  naturally  pictorial — 
that  is,  disposed  to  retain  visual  images  in  general, — and  an 
education  in  the  particular  subject  operated  upon,  are  the 
requisites  for  success  in  such  an  operation.  The  suscepti- 
bility to  beauty,  or  to  the  emotional  effects  of  the  several 
combinations,  operates  in  favour  of  every  construction  that 
yields  the  emotion. 

CONSTRUCTION   OF   NEW   EMOTIONS. 

10.  We  may  revive  emotional  states  by  contiguity  or  by 
similarity,  or  by  a  composition  of  associating  bonds ;  and, 
from  two  or  more  states  thus  revived,  new  emotions  may  be 
generated  by  constructiveness.  I  have  already  touched  upon 
this,  in  speaking  of  the  organic  sensations  ;  these  being 
almost  purely  emotional  in  their  character.  But,  if  we  pass 
to  the  feelings  that  are  more  recoverable  and  more  retain- 
able in  the  ideal  form,  we  shall  obtain  examples  of  greater 
frequency  in  actual  occurrence. 

The  problem  is  to  realize  emotions  such  as  we  have 
never  experienced  in  ourselves,  or  have  experienced  too 
rarely  to  recall  them  by  any  effort  of  mere  recollection. 
The  feelings  belonging  to  men  whose  character,  position, 
occupation,  etc.,  are  totally  different  from  our  own,  can  in 
general  be  conceived  only  through  a  constructive  process, 
operating  upon  feelings  that  we  do  possess. 

There  are  certain  elementary  emotions  that  belong  to 
human  nature  in  general,  although  manifested  very  unequally, 
partly  in  consequence  of  primitive  differences  of  character, 
and  partly  of  variety  in  the  outward  circumstances  of 
individuals.  Every  one  has  experience  of  wonder,  of  fear, 
of  love,  of  power,  of  anger,  of  self-conceit,  of  remorse. 
Should  any  one  of  the  elementary  feelings  be  absent  from  a 
character,  no  constructive  process  is  sufficient  to  create  it : 
what  constructiveness  can  produce  is,  by  that  very  fact,  not 
elementary.     If,  for  example,  a  person  were  naturally  devoid 


620  CONSTEUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

of  the  emotion  of  fear,  this  emotion  could  not  be  generated 
by  any  known  effort  of  construction.  In  like  manner,  the 
irascible  feeling  seems  so  distinct  and  peculiar  that  we 
could  not  be  made  to  conceive  it  without  direct  experience. 
Even  when  an  emotion  not  entirely  wanting  is  yet  allowed 
to  sleep,  the  difficulty  of  rousing  it  may  prove  insuperable. 
Thus  it  is  that  some  men  are  unable  to  enter  into  the  senti- 
ment of  reUgious  veneration,  and  others  are  disqualified 
from  comprehending  the  pleasures  of  the  fine  arts  ;  one 
class  are  utterly  incapable  of  sympathizing  with  the  pursuit 
of  scientific  truth,  and  another  can  never  be  made  to  under- 
stand the  feeling  of  disinterested  usefulness. 

The  emotions  that  can  be  acquired  by  constructiveness 
are,  therefore,  the  compound  emotions,  or  some  conceivable 
varieties  of  the  elementary.  We  must  be  able  in  each  case 
to  specify  certain  primary  feelings  possessed  by  the  person 
appealed  to,  the  combination  of  which,  in  a  particular  way, 
shall  yield  the  emotion  that  we  desire  to  communicate  or 
evoke.  If  the  constituent  elements  are  actually  made  pre- 
sent to  the  mind  in  their  proper  degree,  the  fusion  will  take 
place  as  a  matter  of  course.  Perhaps,  the  best  commencing 
exercise  in  this  art  of  conceiving  other  men's  feelings  would 
be  to  change  the  degree  of  one  of  our  own  emotions.  I  have 
a  certain  disposition  to  take  on  fear.  It  being,  however, 
apparent  that  another  person,  whose  character  I  am  desirous 
of  realizing,  is  susceptible  to  a  much  greater  extent,  I  must 
endeavour  to  assume,  for  a  time,  a  pitch  of  terror  much 
beyond  my  own.  This  can  be  done  in  various  ways.  I  may 
go  back  upon  times  of  my  life  when  the  emotion  took  a 
greater  hold  of  me ;  I  may  conceive  occasions  and  circum- 
stances of  a  kind  to  produce  a  more  than  ordinary  degree  of 
the  state  ;  or  I  may  revert  to  the  particular  subject  that  most 
easily  depresses  my  courage.  Or,  again,  instead  of  working 
upon  the  emotion  itself,  I  may  exert  my  imagination  to 
construct  objects  of  intense  and  overpowering  terror,  from 
the  contemplation  of  which  a  high  pitch  of  the  feeling  would 
arise.      By    these    means    I    can    be    made   to    assume    an 


combixinct  two  emotions  into  a  third.  621 

unwonted  amount  of  the  feeling,  and  can  approach  to  the 
state  of  mind  of  the  person  supposed,  so  as  to  foreshadow^ 
the  actions  flowing  from  that  particular  state. 

By  such  endeavours,  one  might  acquire  an  exalted  cast 
of  any  familiar  emotion.  The  exercise  would  cost  both  effort 
and  time ;  but,  if  we  are  able  to  revive  with  ease  the  past  states 
of  our  own  experience  that  bear  on  the  case,  we  shall  not  be 
long  in  accomplishing  the  end  in  view.  To  acquire  a  new 
degree  of  intensity  of  any  emotion  so  thoroughly  as  to  be 
able  to  follow  out  all  the  influences  and  consequences  of  the 
feeling,  is  a  very  high  effort,  and  demands  iteration  and 
time ;  inasmuch  as  there  is  implied  in  it  the  process  of 
fixing,  into  a  permanent  possession,  a  state  of  mind  that  has 
been  worked  up  with  labour.  Thus,  for  the  man  that  is  only 
alive  in  a  moderate  degree  to  the  pleasure  of  music,  to  be 
able,  at  any  time,  to  rise  to  the  state  of  an  enthusiast,  so  as 
to  depict  that  character  in  all  its  phases,  there  would  be 
required  a  somewhat  laborious  practice.  AVriters  whose 
province  it  is  to  trace  out  and  depict  all  the  windings  of 
characters  dift'erent  from  their  own,  must  work  themselves 
into  a  number  of  unexperienced  degrees  and  modes  of  feel- 
ing as  a  preparation  for  their  task. 

11.  The  exercise  of  combining  two  emotions,  so  as  to 
bring  out  a  third  different  from  either,  is  not  intrinsically 
arduous.  Everything  depends  upon  the  facility  of  assuming 
the  elementary  feelings.  If  a  person  has  ever  known  an 
affection  of  the  nature  of  a  passion  for  any  one  object,  such 
a  one  is  capable  of  conceiving,  by  an  effort  of  transference, 
a  passion  for  an  object  very  different.  Thus  it  is  that 
Michelet,  in  endeavouring  to  pourtray  the  attachment  of  the 
French  peasant  proprietor  for  his  land,  brings  into  the 
picture  the  feelings  of  strong  personal  attachment.  The 
difference  of  subject  is  great ;  but  the  attempt  is  not,  there- 
fore, hopeless.  It  would  doubtless  be  much  easier  to  transfer 
the  feelings  of  love,  in  one  personal  relation,  to  some  other 
relation,  by  making  allowance  for  the  difference,  as  in  pass- 
ing from  friendship  to  marriage,  or  to  the  parental  relation. 


622  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

The  historian,  who  has  to  deal  with  extinct  modes  of 
feehng,  and  who  has  to  study  truth  in  his  dehneations,  is 
necessarily  much  versed  in  the  exercise  now  under  discussion. 
Grote  forewarns  his  reader  '  that  there  will  occur  nume- 
rous circumstances  in  the  after  political  life  of  the  Greeks 
which  he  will  not  comprehend  unless  he  be  initiated  into  the 
course  of  their  legendary  associations.  He  will  not  under- 
stand the  frantic  terror  of  the  Athenian  public  during  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  on  the  occasion  of  the  mutilation  of  the 
statues  called  Hermse,  unless  he  enters  into  the  way  in  which 
they  connected  their  stability  and  security  with  the  domici- 
liation of  the  gods  in  the  soil '  {Hist,  of  Greece,  Preface). 

CONCRETING  THE  ABSTRACT. 

12.  Under  a  former  head,  I  have  supposed  the  case  of 
fusing  the  properties  of  two  different  objects  so  as  to  make  a 
third  different  from  either.  Given  a  brick  building  and  a 
marble  surface,  to  conceive  a  marble  building.  This  is,  to 
form  a  new  concrete  out  of  two  pre-existing  concretes.  But 
we  may  go  a  step  farther.  Given  the  abstract  properties, 
to  construct  the  concrete  whole.  Take,  for  example,  the 
geometrical  form  of  a  pyramid  and  the  colour  of  granite, 
a,nd  conceive  the  actual  object  as  existing  in  nature.  This 
is,  in  most  cases,  a  somewhat  more  difficult  operation  than 
the  foregoing,  but  can  hardly  be  said  to  involve  any  new  or 
distinct  effort.  If  we  realize  the  constituent  elements  with 
sufficient  vigour,  and  keep  the  two  together  in  the  mind,  the 
construction  is  sure  to  follow.  If  we  have  but  a  feeble  hold 
of  one  or  other  of  the  parts,  some  exertion  will  be  requisite 
to  make  them  fall  into  their  places  in  the  new  compound. 

When  the  plan  and  sections  of  a  building  are  given,  we 
have  the  means  of  realizing  the  form  of  the  solid  building ; 
when  we  add  the  colour  of  the  surface,  or  the  appearance  of 
the  material  to  the  eye,  the  concrete  emerges  in  all  its  fulness. 
In  this  case,  the  plan  and  sections  would  not  be  enough  to 
give  the  full  solidity,  unless    we  had  previously  seen  sohd 


CONCEIVING   A   BUILDING.  623 

shapes.  We  require  to  fasten  upon  some  remembered  build- 
ing or  form  of  building,  and  to  alter  this  in  the  mind,  till  we 
bring  out  a  correspondence  between  it  and  the  plan  supposed. 
Thus,  in  order  to  realize  a  Gothic  church  from  a  builder's 
designs,  the  easiest  way  would  be  to  direct  the  view  upon 
some  church  already  familiar  to  us,  and,  on  that,  to  make  the 
alteration  prescribed  by  those  designs.  This  is  a  general 
maxim  in  concrete  realization ;  and  by  it  we  can  easily  under- 
stand the  conditions  that  render  the  operation  easy.  It  is 
evident  that  a  previous  store  of  well  fixed  objects  of  the  par- 
ticular kind  in  question,  is  the  great  requisite.  If  the  past 
experience  of  the  indi\adual  has  given  great  opportunities  for 
laying  in  such  a  store,  and  if  the  mind  is  naturally  of  a  pic- 
torial and  concrete  order,  the  process  of  new  construction  has 
every  advantage  in  its  favour.  Not  to  speak  of  the  chance  of 
possessing  firm  and  recoverable  ideas  of  objects  approaching 
very  near  the  new  construction,  there  is  a  great  facility  in 
making  the  required  alterations,  if  the  thing  operated  on  is 
vividly  and  easily  held  in  the  view ;  provided  always,  that 
there  is  no  serious  obstruction  from  the  feelings. 

To  imagine  a  country  from  a  map,  is  a  case  of  the  same 
nature.  The  effort  consists  in  holding  before  the  mind's  eye 
a  series  of  scenic  views,  in  all  the  richness  of  the  colouring, 
and  all  the  fulness  of  the  details,  while  performing  the  opera- 
tion of  cutting  out  and  taking  in,  so  as  to  suit  the  prescribed 
outlines.  An  intellect  rich  in  concrete  or  living  conceptions 
of  actual  nature  possesses  the  prime  requisite  for  such  a  task. 

The  mode  of  describing  the  objects  of  natural  history  is 
to  enumerate  the  abstract  properties.  Thus,  a  mineral  is 
described  by  such  abstractions  as  crystalline  form,  hardness, 
nature  of  surface,  colour,  lustre,  etc.  Now,  by  a  vigorous 
effort  of  constructive  conception,  one  might  realize  an  actual 
specimen  from  the  assemblage  of  abstract  qualities.  So,  with 
a  plant  or  animal.  The  first  condition  of  success  is  still  the 
same.  The  mind  must  be  well  versed  in  actual  specimens,  so 
as  to  be  able  to  lay  hold  of  some  concrete  recollection,  by 
operating  upon  which,  a  new  specimen  will  emerge  possessing 


624  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

all  the  properties  of  the  description.  A  botanist  can  readily 
form  to  himself  the  picture  of  a  new  plant  from  the  botanical 
description ;  a  person  less  familiar  with  plants  would  find  the 
construction  laborious,  perhaps  impossible. 

13.  The  more  we  analyze  or  decompose  concrete  objects 
into  the  abstract  qualities  that  make  them  up,  the  more 
difficult  is  it  to  remount  to  the  concrete.  Hence,  the  most 
arduous  attempt  of  all  is  to  make  actual  nature  rise  up  out 
of  scientific  and  technical  language, — to  conceive  minerals 
from  a  book  of  mineralogy,  and  the  parts  of  the  human  body 
from  anatomical  description.  This  is  the  repulsive  or  un- 
favourable side  of  science  and  of  abstract  reasoning.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  by  the  process  of  resolving  natural  aggregates 
into  their  ultimate  abstractions,  that  we  obtain  the  means  of 
making  new  constructions  widely  differing  from,  and  superior 
to  anything  that  exists  in  our  experience,  by  which  many 
important  ends  in  human  life  are  furthered.  New  creations 
of  science,  and  new  devices  of  industry,  result  from  this 
power  of  re-constituting  the  ultimate  abstract  elements  of 
existing  things.  Even  the  artist  will  find  his  account  in  it, 
although  it  is  not  usual  with  him  to  carry  abstraction  so  far 
as  either  the  man  of  science,  or  the  man  of  practice.  Many 
great  poetic  conceptions  are  the  embodiment  of  an  abstract 
idea.  Milton's  personification  of  the  spirit  of  evil  may  be 
quoted  as  an  example. 

REALIZING  REPRESENTATION  OR  DESCRIPTION. 

14.  What  is  to  be  said  on  this  head  is  little  else  than  an 
application  of  the  remarks  already  made.  When  we  are 
desired  to  conceive  an  object  differing  from  any  that  we  have 
ever  known,  we  can  do  so  only  by  constructing  it  out  of 
qualities  and  particulars  indicated  in  a  representation  or 
description.  The  machinery  of  representation  for  such  an 
end  is  known  to  be  very  various  ;  including  pictures,  sculp- 
tures, models,  diagrams,  and,  greatest  of  all,  language.  If  we 
wish  to  conceive  a  living  human  face  by  means  of  a  coloured 


THE    ART    OF    DESCRIPTION.  625 

portrait,  we  require  an  act  of  constructiveness  to  make  up  the 
difference  between  the  painting  and  the  reahty  ;  we  must 
fuse  or  combine  a  hving  face  with  the  features  of  the  portrait, 
till  the  one  is  completely  adapted  to  the  other.  The  dithculty 
lies  in  separating  the  suggestive  part  of  the  picture  from  the 
gross  total  of  canvas  and  colour  ;  and  the  labour  is  greater 
according  as  the  painter  has  .attempted  to  produce  a  work  of 
art — that  is,  a  pleasing  combination  of  colour  and  forms. 
There  is  here  that  effort  of  analysis,  which  I  have  already 
alluded  to,  as  the  preliminary  of  many  constructions,  render- 
ing them  often  very  hard  to  accomplish.  The  same  remarks 
apply  to  sculpture.  An  unartistic  model  (or  wax  image)  is 
the  best  medium  for  enabling  the  mind  to  rise  to  the  living 
and  actual  reality. 

15.  Verbal  description  is  the  most  universal  mode  of 
imparting  to  the  mind  new  ideas  and  combinations  ;  and  the 
hearer  or  reader  must  exercise  constructiveness  to  realize  the 
intended  image.  The  one  method  of  procedure  open  to  the 
author  of  the  description  is  to  compose  the  unknown  out  of 
the  known  ;  the  hearer  must  then  implement  the  process 
by  the  force  of  his  own  mind,  bringing  together  the  suggested 
particulars  into  a  combined  total,  with  the  requisite  inclusions 
and  exclusions.  Language  is  made  the  medium  for  indicat- 
ing the  things  that  are  to  be  brought  together,  in  the  forma- 
tion of  the  new  compound. 

16.  With  regard  to  the  describing  art  in  general,  as 
applicable  to  all  cases  where  a  complex  object  or  scene  has 
to  be  represented  to  the  view,  the  leading  maxim  is  to 
combine  a  concrete  or  a  type  of  the  whole,  with  an  enumera- 
tion of  the  parts.  This  is  in  accordance  with  what  has  just 
been  laid  down,  respecting  the  best  method  of  rising  from 
abstract  elements  to  a  concrete  embodiment.  Some  compre- 
hensive designation  that  may  spread  out  the  main  features 
of  the  object  is  indispensable  to  the  description ;  and,  within 
this,  the  details  may  be  arranged  in  proper  form  and  order. 
The  following  is  a  very  simple  instance  from  Milton,  which 
seems  as  if  it  could  not  have  been  stated  otherwise  than  he 

40 


626  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

has  done  ;  but  art  shows  itself  in  carrying  into  compHcated 
cases  the  method  that  appears  self-evident  in  easy  cases. 
The  words  in  italics  mark  the  comprehensive  designation  or 
type  ;  the  rest  of  the  description  giving  the  details  : — 

They  plucked  the  seated  hills,  with  all  their  load — 
Rocks,  waters,  woods — and  by  the  shaggy  tops 
Up-lifting,  bore  them  in  their  hands.* 

The  power  of  bodying  forth  or  realizing  what  is  described 
in  language  is  one  of  the  meanings  of  Conception,  which  is 
given  by  some  writers  in  the  list  of  intellectual  faculties. 
The  same  power  is  also  expressed  by  Imagination,  although 
not    amounting    to   what    is    implied   under    this    faculty. 

*  Carlyle's  description  of  the  town  and  neighbourhood  of  Dunbar,  the 
scene  of  Cromwell's  decisive  victory  over  the  Scotch,  is  rendered  vivid  and 
conceivable,  in  consequence  of  his  always  prefacing  particulars  and  details 
by  terms  and  epithets  that  are  at  once  comprehensive  and  picturesque  : — 

'  The  small  town  of  Dunbar  stands  high  and  windy,  looking  down  over 
its  herring  boats,  over  its  grim  old  castle,  now  much  honeycombed,  on  one 
of  those  projecting  rock-protnontorics  with  which  that  shore  of  the  Firth  of 
Forth  is  niched  and  Vandyked  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  A  beautiful  sea  ; 
good  land  too,  now  that  the  plougher  understands  his  trade ;  a  grim  niched 
harrier  of  v)hinstonc  sheltering  it  from  thechafings  and  tumblings  of  the  big 
blue  German  Ocean.  Seawards,  St.  Abb's  Head,  of  whinstone,  bounds  your 
horizon  to  the  east,  not  very  far  off ;  west,  close  by,  is  the  deep  bay,  and 
fishy  little  village  of  Belhaven ;  the  gloomy  Bass  and  other  rock-islets,  and 
farther,  the  hills  of  Fife,  and  forcshadoivs  of  the  Highlands,  are  visible  as  you 
look  seaward.  From  the  bottom  of  Belhaven  Bay  to  that  of  the  next  sea- 
bight  St.  Abb's-ward,  the  town  and  its  environs  form  a  peninsula.  Along 
the  base  of  which  x^eninsula,  "  not  much  above  a  mile  and  a  half  from  sea  to 
sea,"  Oliver  Cromwell's  army,  on  Monday,  2nd  of  September,  1650,  stands 
ranked,  with  its  tents  and  town  behind  it,  in  very  forlorn  circumstances. 

'  Landward,  as  you  look  from  the  town  of  Dunbar,  there  rises,  some 
short  mile  off,  a  dusky  continent  of  barren  heath  hills;  the  Lammermoor, 
where  only  mountain  sheep  can  be  at  home.  The  crossing  of  which  by  any 
of  its  boggy  passes  and  brawling  stream-courses,  no  army,  hardly  a  solitary 
Scotch  packman,  could  attempt  in  such  weather.  To  the  edge  of  these 
Lammermoor  heights  David  Leslie  has  betaken  himself ;  lies  now  along  the 
utmost  spur  of  them,  a  long  hill  of  considerable  height.  There  lies  he  since 
Sunday  night,  on  the  top  and  slope  of  this  Doon  Hill,  with  the  impassable 
heath  continents  behind  him ;  embraces,  as  with  outspread  tiger-claws,  the 
base  line  of  Oliver's  Dunbar.' 


INTELLECTUAL  FACULTIES  OF  THE  CONCRETE.    627 

There  are  three  different  intellectual  operations,  all  based 
upon  our  sense-perceptions — Memory,  or  the  literal  repro- 
duction of  something  experienced ;  Conception,  or  the  pic- 
turing of  what  is  described,  by  means  of  a  constructive 
operation  ;  and  Imagination  proper,  which  implies  the  con- 
struction of  something  neither  experienced  nor  presented  to 
us  in  description  by  others.  Although  these  operations 
progressively  increase  in  difficulty,  yet  there  is  a  common 
aptitude  at  the  bottom.  He  that  has  the  most  vivid  pictorial 
Memory,  will  have  a  corresponding  facility  in  Conception, 
and  in  the  still  higher  power  of  Imagination. 


CONSTRUCTIVENESS  IN  SCIENCE. 

17.  The  Abstractions,  Inductions,  Deductions,  and  Expe- 
rimental processes  of  science,  which  we  have  already  seen 
to  be  mainly  dependent  upon  the  workings  of  the  law  of 
Similarity,  afford  likewise  examples  of  Construction. 

The  first  in  order  of  the  Scientific  processes  is  Abstrac- 
tion, or  the  generalizing  of  a  single  attribute,  so  as  to 
present  it  to  the  mind,  apart  from  the  other  properties  that 
usually  go  along  with  it  in  Nature.  Thus,  a  square  in 
Euclid  is  an  abstraction  :  in  nature,  squareness  is  always 
accompanied  with  other  properties,  making  the  concrete,  or 
actual,  square, — a  square  pane  of  glass,  a  square  of  houses, 
etc.  We  have  already  seen  that  the  forming  of  these 
abstract  ideas  is  a  result  of  the  identifying  action  expressed 
by  the  law  of  Similarity  (see  Similarity,  §  34).  We  have 
now  to  point  out  the  cases  where  a  considerable  constructive 
effort  is  required,  in  addition  to  the  force  of  identification. 
There  are  abstractions  of  a  peculiar  order  of  subtlety,  which 
cannot  be  arrived  at,  or  embraced  by  the  mind,  except 
through  a  constructive  operation,  adapted  to  the  case  by 
much  study  of  the  particular  instances.  Take,  for  example, 
the  abstract  idea  of  a  gas.  Here,  the  material  eludes  the 
senses,  and  cannot  be  represented  by  either  an  example  or 
an  outline, — like  a  mountain,  or  a  circle,  or  a  genus  of  plants. 


628  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

And,  if  the  iiidividLial  gases  are  so  difficult  to  represent, 
there  must  be  a  similar  difficulty  in  attaining  an  idea  of 
the  property  common  to  them  all  as  a  class.  A  case  of  this 
nature  must  be  circumvented.  AYhen  we  have  ascertained 
by  experiment  the  properties  of  one  gas,  such  as  the  air,  we 
record  them  in  the  best  language  we  can  obtain,  by  com- 
parison with  the  more  palpable  phenomena  of  solids  and 
fluids.  AVe  find  that  the  air  is  inert,  and  has  weight ;  that 
it  is  elastic,  like  a  spring ;  but  that  it  is  extremely  light. 
Trying  other  gases,  we  find  similar  properties  to  hold  good. 
AAHien,  however,  we  experiment  on  the  visible  vapour  of 
water,  we  find  an  absence  of  the  elastic  property  belonging 
to  air  and  invisible  steam :  in  fact,  this  substance  has 
nothing  in  common  with  aeriform  bodies,  but  lightness  or 
tenuity  ;  and,  in  the  exercise  of  our  discretion,  we  think 
it  right  to  exclude  it  from  the  group,  and  embrace  together 
only  those  that  have  the  property  of  elasticity,  or  spon- 
taneous expansion,  constituting  this  the  defining  mark,  or 
the  abstract  idea  of  the  class. 

By  a  similar  process  of  groping,  experiment,  and  the 
exercise  of  judgment,  the  scientific  world  has  attained  to 
abstract  conceptions  of  the  subtle  properties  expressed  by 
Heat,  Electricity,  Chemical  affinity.  Cell-reproduction,  etc. 
The  definitions  of  these  attributes  are  constructions  labori- 
ously worked  out.  Nevertheless,  the  means  of  effecting  them, 
so  far  as  intellect  is  concerned,  is  still  by  the  ordinary  forces 
of  association,  which  bring  up  to  the  view  various  facts,  ex- 
pressions, and  comparisons,  in  order  to  make  tentative  com- 
binations ;  and  these  are  gradually  improved  upon,  as  their 
unsuitability  to  the  particular  phenomena  is  discovered  on 
examination.  An  intellect  well  versed  in  the  kind  of  con- 
ceptions necessary,  and  acting  vigorously  in  the  reviving  of 
these  by  association,  is  naturally  qualified  for  the  work.  Next 
to  this,  is  the  second  leading  condition  of  constructiveness 
in  general — a  clear  perception  of  the  subject  to  be  seized,  or 
of  the  particulars  to  be  suited. 

Possessing  thus  the  material  of  the  construction  and  a 


ABSTRACTION. — INDUCTION.  629 

clear  sense  of  the  fitness  or  unfitness  of  each  new  tentative, 
the  operator  proceeds  to  ply  the  third  requisite  of  construc- 
tiveness — trial  and  error — or,  as  Newton  termed  it,  '  patient 
thought,'  to  attain  the  desired  result.  This  power  of  patient 
thought  may  repose  upon  a  strong  bent  of  mind  towards  the 
subject  in  hand,  a  passion  or  fascination  for  the  peculiar  class 
of  ideas  concerned,  such  that  these  ideas  can  be  detained 
and  dwelt  upon  without  costing  effort.  The  mathematical 
mind,  in  addition  to  its  intellectual  aptitude  for  retaining 
and  recovering  mathematical  forms,  should  have  this  con- 
genial liking  for  these  forms,  in  order  to  prepare  it  for  original 
discovery.  The  number  of  trials  necessary  to  arrive  at  a  new 
construction  is  usually  so  great  that,  without  something 
of  an  affection,  or  fascination,  for  the  subject,  one  grows 
weary  of  the  task.  The  patient  thought  of  the  naturalist, 
desirous  of  making  new  classifications,  grows  out  of  his  liking 
for  the  subject,  which  makes  it  to  him  a  sweet  morsel  rolled 
under  the  tongue,  and  gives  an  enjoyment  even  to  fruitless 
endeavours.  This  is  the  emotional  condition  of  originality  of 
mind  in  any  department.  When  Napoleon  described  himself 
as  '  nn  homme  j^olitique,'  we  are  to  interpret  the  expression  as 
implying  a  man  of  the  political  fibre  or  grain,  a  character 
whose  charm  of  existence  was  the  handling  of  political  com- 
binations, so  that  his  mind  could  dwell  with  ease  in  this 
region  of  ideas. 

18.  What  has  been  said  above,  with  reference  to  the 
Abstractive  process  of  science,  applies  also  to  Induction — 
the  generalizing  of  pro2Jositio7is,  or  truths.  This  may  be  a 
simple  effort  of  the  reproductive  force  of  similarity  ;  or  there 
may  be  wanted  a  constructive  process  in  addition.  In  gene- 
ralizing the  law  of  the  bending  of  light  in  passing  from  one 
medium  to  another,  Snell  constructed  a  proposition  by  bring- 
ing in  a  foreign  element — namely,  the  geometrical  sines  of  the 
angles  :  he  found  that  the  degree  of  bending  was  as  the  sine 
of  the  inclination  of  the  ray.  This  is  a  good  example  of  the 
devices  required  to  attain  to  a  general  law.  A  mind  well 
versed   in    such  foreign  elements,  apt  to  revive  them,  and 


630  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

disposed  to  dwell  upon  them,  will  be  the  most  likely  to  suc- 
ceed in  the  happy  fetches  and  combinations  that  clench  great 
principles  of  science. 

19.  In  the  processes  of  Deduction,  by  which  general  laws 
and  principles  are  applied  to  the  clearing  up  of  particular 
cases,  and  to  the  solving  of  problems,  the  same  constructive 
process  has  often  to  be  introduced.  The  mind  being  prepared 
beforehand  with  the  principles  most  likely  for  the  purpose, 
and  having  a  vigorous  power  of  similarity  in  that  region, 
incubates  in  patient  thought  over  the  problem,  trying  and 
rejecting,  until  at  last  the  proper  elements  come  together  in 
the  view,  and  fall  into  their  places  in  a  fitting  combination. 

The  vast  structure  of  the  mathematical  sciences  is  a 
striking  example  of  constructiveness,  as  distinguished  from 
the  discoveries  of  mere  identification  through  the  law  of 
similarity.  In  Geometry,  in  Algebra,  in  the  higher  Calculus, 
and  in  the  endless  devices  of  refined  analysis,  we  see  an 
apparatus  perfectly  unprecedented,  the  result  of  a  long  series 
of  artificial  constructions  for  the  working  out  of  particular 
ends.  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  trace  out  the  course  of 
this  creative  energy  ;  the  mental  forces  involved  in  it  being 
no  other  than  those  that  we  have  dwelt  upon. 

20.  In  the  devices  of  Experimental  science,  there  comes 
into  play  a  constructiveness  akin  to  invention  in  the  arts  and 
manufactures.  The  air-pump,  for  example,  is  an  illustrious 
piece  of  constructive  ingenuity.  The  machine  already  in  use 
for  pumping  water  had  to  be  changed  and  adapted  to  suit  the 
case  of  air  ;  and  it  was  necessary  that  some  one  well  versed 
in  mechanical  expedients,  and  able  to  recall  them  on  slight 
hints  of  contiguity,  or  similarity,  should  go  through  the 
tedious  course  of  trials  that  such  a  case  required. 

Putting  together  the  applications  of  the  Retentive  power 
of  the  mind  in  Science  (Contiguity,  §  70),  the  explanation 
of  the  operations  of  Abstraction,  Induction,  and  Deduction 
(Similarity,  §  34),  and  what  has  now  been  said  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  Constructive  operation,  we  have  an  account, 
as  complete  as  I  am  able  to  give,  of  the  composition  of  the 


THE    ACTIVE    TURN    IN    PRACTICAL   INVENTION.  631 

Reasoning  faculty,  viewed  in  its  most  comprehensive  appli- 
cation. 

PRACTICAL   CONSTRUCTIONS. 

21.  The  region  of  inventions  for  the  practical  ends  of  life 
might  be  searched  for  illustrations  of  constructive  genius. 
So,  the  department  of  administrative  capacity  in  every  class 
of  affairs,  and  every  kind  of  business,  might  be  explored  with 
the  same  view. 

Not  one  of  the  leading  mental  peculiarities  already  laid 
down  as  applicable  to  scientific  constructiveness,  can  be  dis- 
pensed with  in  the  constructions  of  practice  : — the  intellectual 
store  of  ideas  applicable  to  the  special  department ;  the 
powerful  action  of  the  associating  forces ;  a  very  clear  per- 
ception of  the  end,  in  other  words,  sound  judgment ;  and, 
lastly,  that  patient  thought,  which  is  properly  an  entranced 
devotion  of  the  energies  to  the  subject  in  hand,  rendering 
application  to  it  spontaneous,  if  not  easy. 

With  reference  to  originality  in  all  departments,  whether 
science,  practice,  or  fine  art,  there  is  a  point  of  character  that 
deserves  notice,  as  being  more  obviously  of  value  in  practical 
inventions  and  in  the  conduct  of  business  and  affairs, — I  mean 
an  Active  turn,  or  a  profuseness  of  energy,  put  forth  in  trials 
of  all  kinds  on  the  chance  of  making  lucky  hits.  In  science, 
meditation  and  speculation  can  do  much,  but,  in  practice,  a 
disposition  to  try  experiments  is  of  the  greatest  service. 
Nothing  less  than  a  fanaticism  of  experimentation  could  have 
given  birth  to  some  of  our  grandest  practical  combinations. 
The  great  discovery  of  Daguerre,  for  example,  could  not  have 
been  regularly  worked  out  by  any  systematic  and  orderly 
research  ;  there  was  no  way  but  to  stumble  on  it,  so  unlikely 
and  remote  were  the  actions  brought  together  in  one  consecu- 
tive process.  The  discovery  is  unaccountable,  until  we  learn 
that  the  author  had  been  devoting  himself  to  experiments  for 
improving  the  diorama,  and  thereby  got  deeply  involved  in 
trials  and  operations  far  removed  from  the  beaten  paths  of 
inquiry.  The  energy  that  prompts  to  endless  attempts  was 
found  in  a  surprising  degree  in  Kepler.     A  similar  untiring 


632  CONSTEUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

energy — the  union  of  an  active  temperament  with  intense 
fascination  for  his  subject — appears  in  the  character  of  Sir 
Wilham  Herschel.  When  these  two  attributes  are  conjoined 
— when  profuse  active  vigour  operates  on  a  field  that  has  an 
unceasing  charm  for  the  mind, — we  then  see  human  nature 
surpassing  itself. 

The  invention  of  Daguerre*  illustrates,  by  a  modern 
instance,  the  probable  method  whereby  some  of  the  most 
ancient  inventions  were  arrived  at.  The  inventions  of  the 
scarlet  dye,  of  glass,  of  soap,  of  gunpowder,  could  have  come 
only  by  accident  ;  but  the  accident,  in  most  of  them,  would 
probably  fall  into  the  hands  of  men  engaged  in  numerous 
trials  upon  the  materials  involved.  Intense  application, — 
'  days  of  watching,  nights  of  waking,' — went  with  ancient 
discoveries  as  well  as  with  modern.  In  the  historical  in- 
stances, we  know  as  much.  The  mental  absorption  of 
Archimedes  is  a  proverb. 

\  A  remark  may  be  made  here,  applicable  alike  to  Science 
and  to  Practice.  Originality  in  either  takes  two  forms,  —Ob- 
servation or  Experiment,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  identifying 
processes  of  Abstraction,  Induction,  and  Deduction,  on  the 
other.  In  the  first,  the  bodily  activities  and  the  senses  are 
requisite  ;  the  last  are  the  purely  intellectual  forces.  It  is  not 
by  high  intellectual  force  that  a  man  discovers  new  countries, 
new"  plants,  new  properties  of  objects  ;  it  is  by  putting  forth 
an  unusual  force  of  activity,  adventure,  inquisitorial  and  per- 
severing search.  All  this  is  necessary  in  order  to  obtain  the 
observations  and  facts  in  the  first  instance ;  when  these  are 
collected  in  sufficient  number,  a  different  aptitude  is  brought 
to  bear.      By  identifying   and   assimilating   the    scattered 


*  The  wonderful  part  of  this  discovery  consists  in  the  succession  of  pro- 
cesses that  had  to  concur  in  one  operation,  before  any  effect  could  arise. 
Having  taken  a  silver  plate,  iodine  is  first  used  to  coat  the  surface  ;  the 
surface  is  then  exposed  to  the  light,  but  the  effect  produced  is  not  apparent 
till  the  plate  has  been  immersed  in  the  vapour  of  mercury.  To  fall  upon 
such  a  combination,  without  any  clue  derived  from  previous  knowledge,  an 
innumerable  series  of  fruitless  trials  must  have  been  gone  through. 


MEANING    OF    THE    FACULTY   OF   JUDGMENT.  633 

materials,  general  properties  and  general  truths  are  obtained, 
and  these  may  be  pushed  deductively  into  new  applica- 
tions— in  all  which,  a  powerful  reach  of  Similarity  is  a  main 
requisite  ;  and  this  may  be  possessed  by  men  totally  destitute 
of  the  active  qualities  necessary  for  observation  and  experi- 
ment. 

The  Romans  were  seemingly  the  first  inventors  of  man}'- 
political  institutions,  which  were  adopted  and  extended  in 
all  civilized  countries.  The  Source  of  their  originality  was 
simply  trial  and  error  in  the  situations  that  occurred  in  the 
course  of  their  political  experience.  Dictator,  Censor,  Inter- 
regnum, Imperator,  Consul,  Pro-consul,  and  many  other 
designations  in  law  and  in  politics  originated  with  them, 
as  so  many  devices  adopted  at  first  hand.  The  power  of 
Similarity  in  Diversity,  operating  upon  these  primary  sug- 
gestions, made  them  available  in  new^  circumstances,  unfore- 
seen by  the  men  that  had  the  credit  of  first  devising  them. 

22.  The  present  topic  furnishes  a  good  opportunity  for 
singling  out,  for  more  special  notice,  the  quality  of  mind 
known  by  the  name  of  Judgment.  I  have  already  included 
a  clear  perception  of  the  end  to  be  served  as  essential  to  a 
high  order  of  constructive  ingenuity,  simply  because,  without 
this,  though  there  may  be  a  great  profusion  of  devices  and 
suggestions  bearing  upon  the  required  combination,  the 
fitting  result  is  really  not  arrived  at.  Some  combination 
short  of  the  exigencies  of  the  case  is  acquiesced  in. 

The  various  regions  of  practice  differ  much  in  respect  of 
the  explicitness  of  the  signs  of  success.  In  some  things, 
there  is  no  doubt  at  all  :  we  all  know  wiien  we  have  made 
a  good  dinner,  when  our  clothing  is  warm,  or  when  a  wound 
has  healed.  The  miller  knows  when  there  is  water  enough 
for  his  mill,  and  the  trader  knows  when  he  has  found  out 
a  good  market.  The  end  in  those  cases  is  so  clear  and 
manifest,  that  no  one  is  deluded  into  the  notion  of  having 
compassed  it,  if  such  be  not  the  fact.  But,  in  more  complex 
affairs,  where  perfect  success  is  unattainable,  there  is  room  for 
doubts  as  to  the  degree  actually  arrived  at.     Thus,  in  public 


634  CONSTEUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

administration,  we  look  only  for  doing  good  in  a  considerable 
majority  of  instances;  and  it  is  often  easy  to  take  a  minority 
for  a  majority.  So,  in  acting  upon  human  beings, — as  in  the 
arts  of  teaching,  advising,  directing,  persuading, — we  may 
suffer  ourselves  to  fall  into  a  very  lax  judgment  of  what  we 
have  actually  achieved,  and  may  thus  rest  satisfied  with  easy 
exertions  and  fiimsily-put-together  advices.  A  sound  judg- 
ment, meaning  a  clear  and  precise  perception  of  what  is 
really  effected  by  the  contrivances  employed,  is  to  be  looked 
upon  as  the  first  requisite  of  the  practical  man.  He  may 
be  meagre  in  intellectual  resources,  he  may  be  slow  in 
getting  forward  and  putting  together  the  appropriate  devices, 
but,  if  his  perception  of  the  end  is  unfaltering  and  strong,  he 
will  do  no  mischief  and  practise  no  quackery.  He  may 
have  to  wait  long  in  order  to  bring  together  the  apposite 
machinery,  but,  when  he  has  done  so  to  the  satisfaction 
of  his  own  thorough  judgment,  the  success  w^ill  be  above 
dispute.  Judgment  is  in  general  more  important  than 
fertility  ;  because  a  man,  by  consulting  others  and  studying 
what  has  been  already  done,  may  usually  obtain  suggestions 
enough,  but,  if  his  judgment  of  the  end  is  loose,  the  highest 
exuberance  of  intellect  is  only  a  snare. 

The  adapting  of  one's  views  and  plans  to  the  opinions 
of  others  is  an  interesting  case  of  constructiveness,  and 
would  illustrate  all  the  difficulties  that  ever  belong  to  the 
operation.  A  more  abundant  intellectual  suggestiveness  is 
requisite,  according  as  the  conditions  of  the  combination  are 
multiplied  ;  we  must  transform  our  plan  into  a  new  one 
containing  the  essentials  of  success,  with  the  addition  that  it 
must  conform  to  the  plan  of  some  other  person.  There  is,  in 
that  case,  a  considerable  amount  of  moral  effort,  as  well  as 
of  intellectual  adaptation  ;  the  giving  way  to  other  men's 
views  being  by  no  means  indifferent  to  our  own  feelings. 

The  subject  of  Speech  in  general  would  present  some 
aspects  of  the  constructive  mechanism  not  hitherto  dwelt 
upon  in  our  exposition.  A  fluent  speaker  constructing 
verbal  combinations  adapted  to  all  the  exigencies  of  meaning, 


IMAGINATION    ESSENTIALLY    INVOLVES    EMOTION.        635 

grammar,  taste,  and  cadence,  as  fast  as  the  voice  can  utter 
them,  is  an  object  interesting  to  study  in  the  present  con- 
nexion. The  Itahan  Improvisatori  furnish  a  still  higher 
example.  The  sufficiently  rapid  action  of  the  associating 
forces  is  here  of  prime  importance.  Eeal  power  is  not 
usually  identified  with  a  specific  pace  of  mental  movement — 
a  slow  action  may  be  as  effective  as  a  quick  ;  but,  in  this 
particular  instance,  the  ready  revival  of  all  the  associations 
that  concur  in  the  common  stream  is  the  main  element  of 
success. 

FINE  ART  CONSTRUCTIONS— IMAGINATION.* 

23.  The  grand  peculiarity  of  the  case  now  to  be  con- 
sidered is  the  presence  of  an  emotional  element  in  the 
combinations.  In  the  constructions  of  science  and  of 
practice,  a  certain  end  is  to  be  served — the  attainment 
of  truth,  or  the  working  out  of  a  practical  result  ;  and  the 
mind  has  to  choose  means  suitable  to  those  ends,  according 
to  the  rigorous  laws  of  nature's  working.  A  builder  has  to 
erect  a  structure  that  will  defy  the  weather,  and  accommodate 
a  certain  number  of  human  beings.  Nothing  must  enter 
into  his  plan  that  is  not  calculated  to  effect  these  purposes. 
The  construction  is  considered  a  pure  effort  of  intellect, 
because  it  is  by  intellect  that  we  comprehend  the  laws  and 
properties  of  stone,  wood,  and  iron,  and  choose  out  and 
combine  such  materials  as  will  serve  for  warmth  and 
shelter.  AVe  should  not  properly  call  this  operation  '  im- 
aginative,' although  there  is  a  constructive  process  gone 
through  ;  simply  because  no  feeling  or  emotion  enters  in 
as  an  element,   excepting  the  one  feeling  of  answering  a 

*  The  word  '  Image  '  has  come  to  be  used  in  a  much  wider  signification 
than  the  term  'Imagination'.  This  may  be  one  cause  of  the  undue  exten- 
sion given  to  the  latter  term,  by  making  it  co-extensive  with  all  the  forms  of 
original  constructiveness,  such  as  Invention  in  Science  and  the  Useful  Arts. 
Other  causes  may  concur  to  what  must  be  pronounced  an  abuse  of  the  term 
in  question.  As  regards  the  word  '  Image,'  the  necessities  of  subjective 
nomenclature  may  have  to  do  with  its  frequent  employment  as  a  synonym 
for  the  all-important  term  '  Idea,'  by  which  we  designate  the  mental  trace 
or  intellectual  survival  of  our  various  sense  im^jressions. 


636  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

practical  end.  Volition  there  is  in  abundance,  but  not 
emotion  as  understood  in  the  constructive  processes  of  the 
imagination. 

AVhen,  however,  any  practical  construction,  such  as  a 
building,  in  addition  to  the  uses  of  shelter  and  accommoda- 
tion, is  intended  to  strike  the  refined  sensibilities  that  we 
term  the  feeling  of  the  beautiful,  the  grand,  the  picturesque, 
a  turn  must  be  given  to  the  plan  so  as  to  involve  this  other 
end.  Here,  we  have  emotion  viewed  in  a  certain  narrow 
sense,  as  exclusive  of  the  feeling  of  direct  utility  for  the 
wants  and  necessities  of  life.  Securing  such  pleasures  as 
these,  and  warding  off  the  opposite  pains,  and  all  pains 
connected  with  our  physical  organs,  are  among  the  ends  of 
'practical  art.  When  such  practical  ends  are  secured,  there 
are  other  feelings  and  sentiments  belonging  to  human  nature 
that  can  be  touched  in  a  way  to  increase  the  sum  of  human 
happiness.  These  are  variously  called  the  pleasures  of  Taste, 
the  aesthetic  sensibilities,  the  emotions  of  Fine  Art ;  and  com- 
binations shaped  with  the  view  of  gratifying  them  are  called 
artistic,  sesthetic,  or  imaginative  compositions.  In  all  such 
compositions,  an  element  of  refined  emotion  is  the  regulat- 
ing power,  the  all  in  all  of  the  creative  effort.* 

*  The  following  passage  will  aid  us  iu  working  out  the  distinction  between 
the  constructions  of  imagination  and  the  constructions  of  science  and 
practice : — 

'  The  trains  of  one  class  differ  from  those  of  another,  the  trains  of  the 
merchant,  for  example,  from  those  of  the  lawyer,  not  in  this,  that  the  ideas 
follow  one  another  by  any  other  law,  in  the  mind  of  the  one,  and  the  mind 
of  the  other ;  they  follow  by  the  same  laws  exactly ;  and  are  equally  com- 
posed of  ideas,  mixed  indeed  with  sensations,  in  the  minds  of  both.  The 
difference  consists  in  this,  that  the  ideas  which  flow  in  their  minds,  and 
compose  their  trains,  are  ideas  of  different  things.  The  ideas  of  the  lawyer 
are  ideas  of  the  legal  provisions,  forms,  and  distinctions,  and  of  the  actions, 
bodily  and  mental,  about  which  he  is  conversant.  The  ideas  of  the  merchant 
are  equally  ideas  of  the  objects  and  operations,  about  which  he  is  concerned) 
and  the  ends  towards  which  his  actions  are  directed ;  but  the  objects  and 
operations  themselves  are  remarkably  different.  The  trains  of  poets,  also, 
do  not  differ  from  the  trains  of  other  men,  but  perfectly  agree  with  them 
in  this,  that  they  are  composed  of  ideas,  and  that  those  ideas  succeed  one 
another,   according  to  the  same  laws,  in  their,  and  in  other  minds.     They 


CONTRASTS   WITH    IMAGINATION.  637 

24.  In  adducing  examples  of  combinations  controlled  by 
an  emotional  element,  I  shall  not  confine  myself  to  the 
narrowest  class  of  artistic  feelings,  the  feelings  of  Taste 
properly  so  called  ;  the  fact  being  that,  even  in  the  creations 
of  the  artist,  all  the  strong  emotions  may  come  in  to  swell 
the  cm-rent  of  interest,  excepting  only  a  few  of   the  more 

are  ideas,  however,  of  very  different  things.     The  ideas  of  the  poet  are  ideas 
of  all  that  is  most  lovely  and  striking  in  the  visible  appearance  of  nature, 
and  of  all  that  is  most  interesting  in  the  actions  and  affections  of  human 
beings.     It  thus,  however,  appears  most  manifestly,  that  the  trains  of  poets 
differ  from  those  of  other  men  in  no  other  way,  than  those  of  other  men 
differ  from  one  another  ;  that  they  differ  from  them  by  this  only,  that  the 
ideas  of  which  they  are  composed,  are  ideas  of  different  things.     There  is 
also  nothing  surprising  in  this,  that,  being  trains  of  pleasurable  ideas,  they 
should  have  attracted  a  peculiar  degree  of  attention  ;  and  in  an  early  age, 
when  poetry  was  the  only  literature,  should  have  been  thought  worthy  of  a 
more  particular  naming  than  the  trains  of  any  other  class.     These  reasons 
seem  to  account  for  a  sort  of  appropriation  of  the  name  Imagination  to  the 
trains  of  the  poet.     An  additional  reason  may  be  seen  in  another  circum- 
stance, which  also  affords  an  interesting  illustration  of  a  law  of  association 
already  propounded;  namely,  the  obscuration  of  the  antecedent  part  of  a 
train,  which  leads  to  a  subsequent,  more  interesting  than  itself.     In  the  case- 
of  the  lawyer,  the  train  leads  to  a  decision  favourable  to  the  side  which  he 
advocates.     The  train  has  nothing  pleasurable  in  itself.     The  pleasure  is  all 
derived  from  the  end.     The  same  is  the  case  with  the  merchant.     His  trains 
are  directed  to  a  particular  end.     And  it  is  the  end  alone  which  gives  a 
value  to  the  train.     The  end  of  the  metaphysical,  and  the  end  of  the  mathe- 
matical inquirer  is  the  discovery  of  truth ;  their  trains  are  directed  to  that 
object ;  and  are,  or  are  not,  a  source  of  pleasure,  as  that  end  is,  or  is  not, 
attained.     But  the  case  is  perfectly  different  with  the  poet.     His  train  is  its. 
own   end.      It   is   all   delightful,    or   the   purpose   is   frustrate.      From   the 
established  laws  of  association,  this  consequence  unavoidably  followed ;  that, 
in  the  case  of  the  trains  of  those  other  classes,  the  interest  of  which  was 
concentrated  in  the  end,  attention  was  withdrawn  from  the  train  by  being 
fixed  on  the  end,  that,  in  the  case  of  the  poet,  on  the  other  hand,  the  train 
itself  being  the  only  object,  and  that  pleasurable,  the  attention  was  wholly 
fixed  upon  the  train ;  that  hence  the  train  of  the  poet  was  provided  with  a 
name  ;  that,  in  the  cases  of  the  trains  of  other  men,  when  the  end  only  was 
interesting,  it  was  thought  enough  that  the  end  itself  should  be  named,  the 
train  was  neglected. 

'  In  conformity  with  this  observation,  we  find  that  wherever  there  is  a 
train  which  leads  to  nothing  beyond  itself,  and  has  any  pretension  to  th& 
character  of  pleasurable  (the  various  kinds  of  reverie,  for  example),  it  is 
allowed  the  name  of  Imagination.     Thus  we  say  that  Rousseau  indulged  his. 


638  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

exclusively  animal  feelings.  Terror,  rage,  egotism,  are  not 
primarily  aesthetic  emotions ;  still  the  artist  uses  them  in 
his  compositions.  I  should  also  remark  that  the  influence 
of  the  emotion,  while  just  and  legitimate  in  the  artistic 
sphere,  is  usually  a  source  of  corruption  and  bias  in  the 
combinations  that  have  truth  or  practice  for  their  end.  This 
is  what  is  meant  by  saying  that  imagination  is  not  to  occupy 
the  place  of  judgment  and  reason. 

The  emotion  of  Terror  gives  a  character  to  all  the  ideas 
or  notions  formed  under  the  influence  of  the  feeling.  A  man 
once  thoroughly  terrified  sees  only  objects  of  dread.  It  is 
•difficult  to  form  any  combinations  free  of  this  element. 
■Ghosts  and  hobgoblins  fill  the  imagination  of  the  super- 
stitious, while  more  substantial  forms  of  evil  haunt  a  mind 
unaffected  by  the  dread  of  the  supernatural.  The  terrified 
imagination  is  powerful  to  form  creations  of  terror,  such  as 
may  prove  an  interesting  excitement  to  the  cool  spectator, 
but  which  are  also  likely  to  vitiate  the  truth  of  any  narra- 
tive of  matter  of  fact  given  out  under  the  influence  of  the 
moment.     Hence,  the  accounts  that  a  terror-stricken  and 

imagination,  when,  as  he  himself  describes  it,  lying  on  his  back,  in  his  boat, 
•on  the  little  lake  of  Vienne,  he  delivered  himself  up  for  hours  to  trains,  of 
which,  he  says,  the  pleasure  surpassed  every  other  enjoyment. 

'  Professor  Dugald  Stewart  has  given  to  the  word  Imagination  a  tech- 
nical meaning,  without,  as  it  appears  to  me,  any  corresponding  advantage. 
He  confines  it  to  the  cases  in  which  the  mind  forms  new  combinations  ;  or, 
as  he  calls  them,  creations  ;  that  is,  to  cases  in  which  the  ideas  which  compose 
the  train  do  not  come  together  in  the  same  combinations  in  which  sensations 
had  ever  been  received.  But  this  is  no  specific  difference.  This  happens  in 
every  train  of  any  considerable  length,  whether  directed  to  any  end,  or  not 
so  directed.  It  is  implied  in  every  wish  of  tlie  child  to  fly,  or  to  jump  over 
the  house  ;  in  a  large  proportion  of  all  his  playful  expressions,  as  puss  in 
hoots,  a  hog  in  armour,  a  monkey  preaching,  and  so  on.  It  is  manifested  in 
perfection  in  every  dream.  It  is  well  known  that,  for  the  discovery  of  truths 
in  philosophy,  there  is  a  demand  for  new  trains  of  thought,  multitudes  of 
which  pass  in  review  before  the  mind,  are  contemplated,  and  rejected,  before 
the  happy  combination  is  attained,  in  which  the  discovery  is  involved.  If 
imagination  consists  in  bringing  trains  before  the  mind  involving  a  number 
of  new  combinations,  imagination  is  probably  more  the  occupation  of  the 
philosopher  tlian  of  the  poet '  (Mill's  Analysis,  vol.  i.  p.  181). 


EXAMPLES    OF   IMAGINATIVE    CONSTRUCTIVENESS.       639 

routed  army  relate  as  to  the  numbers  and  power  of  the 
enemy  on  its  heels  ;  hence,  the  exaggerations  that  prevail  in 
the  public  mind  on  occasions  of  popular  panic.  We  see  the 
power  of  an  emotion,  not  merely  to  give  its  own  character  to 
the  conceptions  formed  on  all  subjects,  but  to  induce  behef 
in  the  full  and  exact  reality  of  such  conceptions. 

With  reference  to  examples  of  constructiveness  of  the 
class  now  cited,  I  may  repeat  the  remark  already  made,  to 
the  effect  that  no  new  principle  of  association  is  at  work  in 
making  an  original  combination ;  the  only  thing  requisite 
being  the  presence  or  concurrence  of  the  proper  ingredients, 
as  furnished  by  the  working  of  Contiguity  and  Similarity. 
When  these  ingredients  appear  in  the  mind  together,  they 
fall  into  their  places  as  a  matter  of  course.  In  the  present 
instance,  and  in  all  imaginative  or  emotion-ruled  combina- 
fiions,  the  laws  of  association  can  be  show^n  to  be  sufficient  to 
furnish  the  constituents  of  the  combination;  for,  we  know 
that  each  strong  feeling  or  passion  has,  associated  with  it  in 
the  mind,  a  large  number  of  kindred  objects,  in  consequence 
of  the  previous  frequent  companionship  of  such  objects  with 
the  feeling.  The  passion  of  terror  is  connected  with  the 
things  that  have  roused  the  feeling  in  the  course  of  each 
one's  experience  :  one  man  has  associations  between  it  and 
a  cruel  parent  or  master,  another  with  money  losses,  a  third 
with  attacks  of  illness,  a  fourth  w^ith  defamation,  a  fifth  with 
religious  workings ;  and  most  men  are  familiar  with  a 
plurahty  of  causes  of  dread.  When,  therefore,  the  feehng  is 
once  excited,  no  matter  how,  these  often-experienced  adjuncts 
start  up  and  possess  the  mind,  and  mix  themselves  with 
the  other  ideas  of  the  situation,  so  as  to  constitute  a  medley 
or  compound  of  images,  with  terror  as  the  predominating 
tone.  Seeing  the  approach  of  a  hurried  messenger  with 
distracted  countenance,  the  trader's  mind  is  already  full  of 
disasters  at  sea  or  depressions  of  the  market,  the  parent  of 
a  soldier  is  made  to  think  of  the  calamities  of  warfare,  the 
usurper  is  ready  with  the  anticipation  of  a  popular  rising. 

An  exactly  parallel  illustration  might  be  given  from  the 


640  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

passion  of  Anger.  Once  roused,  this  passion  resuscitates 
the  objects  in  harmony  with  it,  and  puts  together  combina- 
tions wherein  these  enter  as  elements.  The  fanaticism  of 
rage  and  hatred  ascribes  every  diabohcal  impulse  to  the  un- 
fortunate object  of  the  feeling ;  all  the  things  that  have  cus- 
tomarily inspired  anger  are  brought  forward  by  contiguous 
association,  and  the  instigator  of  the  present  outburst  is 
looked  on  as  guilty  of  innumerable  crimes,  in  addition  to  the 
offence  of  the  moment.  This  is  an  extreme  case,  but  not 
unexampled  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Party-rage  brands 
opponents  with  the  most  unheard-of  crimes ;  the  term, 
'  calumny,'  expresses  this  surplus  of  accusation  against  those 
that  have  excited  the  passion  of  hate. 

25.  The  purely  Egotistic  feelings  are  remarkable  for  the 
superstructure  of  imaginative  creations  that  they  can  rear. 
Self-complacency  suggests  merits  and  virtues,  and  constructs 
an  estimate  of  self  most  flattering.  Vanity  sets  up  pictures 
of  admiring  assemblies  and  devoted  worshippers.  But  most 
curious  of  all,  are  the  day-dreams  of  ambition  in  a  sanguine 
temperament :  these  will  embrace  a  whole  history  of  the 
future,  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision  of  wonders  and 
triumphs,  which  is  not  only  constructed  without  labour,  but 
whose  construction  no  labour  can  arrest.  In  former  sections, 
we  have  adverted  to  the  difficult  efforts  of  constructiveness  : 
we  have  seen  how  hard  it  often  is  to  comply  with  the 
numerous  conditions  that  a  construction  must  fulfil,  or  to 
give  a  place  to  all  the  ingredients  that  should  be  represented 
in  it — so  much  so,  that  the  attempt  may  have  to  be  repeated 
time  after  time,  before  everything  falls  into  the  proper 
places.  A  scientific  man  framing  a  definition  for  a  very  com- 
prehensive class  of  objects,  a  mechanician  constructing  a  new 
machine,  a  politician  devising  a  state  expedient,  a  general 
circumventing  a  hostile  army, — will  be  each  engaged  in 
deliberations,  for  days  or  months,  ere  the  proper  combinations 
occur  to  the  mind.  One  suggestion  includes  something  to  be 
avoided,  another  omits  something  that  ought  to  be  present, 
and  long  delays  and  repeated  substitutions  and  trials  precede 


EMOTIONAL    CONSTRUCTIVENESS.  641 

the  successful  termination  of  the  struggle.  But,  in  the  case 
now  supposed,  all  is  different :  stupendous  constructiveness, 
unbounded  originality,  flow  out  at  once  as  fast  as  thought  can 
evolve  itself.  Wherein  lies  the  remarkable  difference  in 
these  two  forms  of  constructiveness  ?  The  immortal  crockery 
merchant  constructed,  in  a  few  minutes,  a  lengthened  fiction, 
totally  distinct  from  anything  he  had  ever  seen  realized  in 
actual  life.  Why  has  emotion  such  power  ?  The  answer  is 
simple.  A  predominating  emotion,  such  as  Ambition,  is 
every  day  at  work  associating  itself  with  objects  and  incidents 
suited  to  gratify  it.  The  feeling  is  called  into  play  by  every 
spectacle  of  power  and  grandeur  that  meets  the  eye,  or  is 
presented  in  story.  The  associating  link  is  soon  forged  in  t)ie 
hot  fire  of  passion ;  and,  after  months  and  years  of  indulgence 
of  a  favourite  emotion,  a  rich  growth  of  the  corresponding 
objects  and  ideas  is  formed  and  ready  to  flow  out,  at  any 
moment  when  the  feeling  is  roused.  Imagination  in  those 
circumstances  becomes  a  power  needing  restraint,  rather  than 
an  effort  of  laboured  constructiveness.  The  foregone  associa- 
tions with  the  feeling  are  so  copious,  that  they  present  them- 
selves freely  for  any  purpose.  JI!onstruction  is  easy,  where 
materials  are  abundant  and  the  conditions  few:  the  owner  of 
the  crockery-basket  had  amassed  pictures  of  happiness  and 
grandeur,  which  required  only  to  be  cast  into  a  consecutive 
order  to  make  his  epic,  and  an  extempore  effort  was  enough 
for  this.  The  onlv  condition  was  to  satisfy  one  feeling  ;  all 
restrictions  were  thrown  aside,  and  he  had  plenty  of  images 
to  suit  the  single  emotion  that  lorded  it  over  his  dream. 
Very  different  would  have  been  the  pace  of  his  execution,  if 
he  had  insisted  that  this  foreshadowing  of  his  career  should 
be  in  accordance  with  the  stern  experience  of  human  life ;  if 
his  picture  should  have  been  regulated  by  natural  calculation, 
founded  on  known  realities.  This  would  have  dried  up  his 
facility  in  a  moment ;  he  would  then  have  been  in  the  con- 
trasted position,  above  described,  of  the  man  of  science,  or 
the  man  of  business :  a  feeling  might  have  still  been  the  end, 

but  purely  intellectual  estimates  of  the  facts  and  laws  of  the 

41 


642  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

world  would  have  entered  into  his  construction  of  the  means. 
The  reconciliation  of  his  desires  with  the  resources  of  his 
position  would  have  been  as  arduous  as  a  string  of  airy 
successes  was  easy.  The  process  might  have  had  ever  so 
much  of  the  constructive  intellect,  and  the  combination 
might  have  been  ever  so  original ;  but  the  term  'imagination' 
would  no  longer  be  used  to  describe  it. 

26.  The  Fine  Art  emotions,  properly  so  called, — the 
emotions  of  harmony,  beauty,  sublimity,  picturesqueness, 
pathos,  humour, — become  associated,  in  the  artistic  mind,  with 
the  objects  that  radiate  the  influence  on  the  beholder.  From 
the  materials  thus  stored  up  and  reproduced  by  association, 
the  artist  makes  his  constructions,  I  have,  in  a  former 
chapter  (Contiguity,  p.  471),  adverted  to  the  mental  equip- 
ment suitable  to  the  artist  in  any  department ;  and  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  repeat,  what  I  have  endeavoured  to 
illustrate,  throughout  the  present  chapter,  that,  when  all  the 
elements  are  present  that  fit  into  a  particular  construction, 
they  will  take  their  places  as  a  matter  of  course.  The 
labour  consists  in  getting  up  the  constituent  parts  from  the 
repositories  of  the  mind,  and  in  choosing  and  rejecting  until 
the  end  in  view  is  completely  answered.  Because  the 
imaginations  of  a  dreamer  are  easy  and  fluent,  it  does  not 
follow  that  the  imaginations  of  a  musician,  an  architect,  or  a 
poet,  shall  be  equally  easy, — although  in  principle  the  same, 
being  governed  by  an  emotion  powerfully  developed  and 
richly  associated  with  material.  The  artist  has  more  strin- 
gent conditions  to  fulfil  than  the  dreamer.  He  has  to  satisfy 
the  reigning  feeling  of  his  piece, — the  melody,  harmony, 
pathos,  humour,  of  the  composition  ;  he  has,  also,  to  make 
this  effect  apparent  to  the  minds  of  others;  he  has,  moreover, 
to  exclude  many  effects  discordant  to  the  taste  of  his  audi- 
ence ;  and,  if  his  work  be  the  decoration  of  some  object  of 
common  usefulness,  he  has  to  save  the  utilities  while  in 
search  of  the  amenities.  Every  new  restriction  adds  to  the 
difficulty  of  a  combining  effort  ;  and  an  artist  may  be  so 
trammelled  with  conditions,  that  the  exercise  of  imagination 


THE    CONSTRUCTIONS    OF    WIT.  643 

shall  be  rendered  as  laborious  as  any  construction  of  the 
reason.  To  call  up  combinations  that  produce  powerful  and 
rich  effects  upon  the  minds  of  men  is  not  easy  in  any  art ; 
but  the  gathered  abundance  of  the  artistic  intellect  is  the 
secret  of  the  power.  The  more  rich  the  granary  of  material, 
the  more  is  the  artist  prepared  to  submit  to  the  numerous 
conditions  involved  in  a  really  great  performance. 

The  rapid  constructions  of  the  genius  of  wit  are  a  pecuHar  case 
under  the  general  principle,  embracing  all  the  recognized  conditions,  with 
certain  psychological  peculiarities  illustrative  of  the  more  abstruse 
workings  of  consciousness.  We  have  seen  already  that  the  stream  of 
thought  is  a  combination  of  suggestions  entering  the  field  of  conscious- 
ness, with  others  lying  outside  but  ready,  not  merely  to  come  into  the 
held,  but  to  make  combinations  with  what  is  already  there.  When 
Jerrold  was  accosted  by  some  one  in  his  company  who  stood  in  dread  of 
his  wit,  with  the  remark,  '  Mr.  Jerrold,  you'll  not  make  a  butt  of  me,' 
Jerrold  replied,  '  Then  don't  bring  your  hogshead  here  '.  The  transition, 
m  Jerrold's  m.ind,  from  'butt'  to  '  hogshead,'  as  a  synonj-m,  must  have 
happened  out  of  consciousness,  together  with  the  concmTing  sense  of  an 
effective  retort  ;  only  the  conclusion  coming  into  the  conscious  area. 
This  is  the  case  sometimes  alluded  to  in  connexion  with  profound 
reasoners  like  Newton,  who  arrived  at  mathematical  inferences  without 
being  conscious  of  the  steps  that  led  to  them.  The  situation  is  not 
limited  to  flights  of  the  highest  genius,  but  enters  into  the  workings 
of  thought  in  minds  generally.  It  has  come  before  us  on  several 
occasions,  in  connexion  with  the  associative  power  of  Recency. 

27.  I  do  not  purpose  at  present  to  enter  upon  a  minute 
illustration  of  the  mental  processes  of  Art-construction.  Not 
only  would  a  large  space  be  requisite  for  spreading  out  the  ex- 
amples in  detail,  but  there  would  soon  come  to  be  involved  a 
strenuous  polemical  discussion,  in  consequence  of  the  prevalence 
of  theories  of  art  that  seem  to  me  erroneous.  Conceiving,  as  I  do, 
that  the  first  object  of  an  artist  is  to  gratify  the  feelings  of  taste, 
or  the  proper  aesthetic  emotions,  I  cannot  assent  to  the  current 
maxim  that  nature  is  his  standard,  or  truth  his  chief  end.  On 
the  contrary,  I  believe  that  these  are  precisely  the  conditions  of 
the  scientific  man  ;  he  it  is  that  should  never  deviate  from  nature, 
and  that  should  care  for  truth  before  all  other  things.  The 
artist's  standard  is  feeling,  his  end  is  refined  pleasure  ;  he  goes  to 
nature,  and  selects  what  chimes  in  with  his  feelings  of  ai'tistic 


644  CONSTRUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

effect,  and  passes  by  the  rest.  He  is  not  even  bound  to  adhere 
to  nature  in  her  very  choicest  displays ;  his  own  taste  being  the 
touchstone,  he  alters  the  originals  at  his  will.  The  scientific 
man,  on  the  other  hand,  must  embrace  every  fact  with  open 
arms ;  the  most  nauseous  fungus,  the  most  loathsome  reptile,  the 
most  pestilential  vapour,  must  be  scanned  and  set  forth  in  all  its 
details. 

The  amount  of  regard  that  the  artist  shows  to  truth,  so  far  as 
I  am  able  to  judge,  is  nearly  as  follows.  In  the  purely  effusive 
arts,  such  as  music  or  the  dance,  truth  and  nature  are  totally 
irrelevant :  the  artist's  feeling,  and  the  gratification  of  the  senses 
of  mankind  generally,  are  the  sole  criterion  of  the  effect.  So,  in 
the  fancies  of  decorative  art,  nature  has  very  little  place  :  sugges- 
tions are  occasionally  derived  from  natural  objects;  but  no  one  is 
bound  to  adopt  more  of  these  than  good  taste  may  allow.  No- 
body talks  of  the  design  of  a  calico  as  being  true  to  nature  ;  it  is 
enough  if  it  please  the  eye.  '  Art  is  art,  because  it  is  not  nature.' 
The  artist  provides  dainties  not  to  be  found  in  nature.  There 
are,  however,  certain  departments  of  art  that  differ  considerably 
from  music  and  fanciful  decoration,  in  this  respect,  namely,  that 
the  basis  of  the  composition  is  generally  something  actual,  or 
something  derived  from  the  existing  realities  of  nature  or  life. 
Such  are  painting,  poetry,  and  romance.  In  these,  nature  gives 
the  subject,  and  the  artistic  genius  the  adornment.  Now, 
although,  in  their  case  also,  the  gratification  of  the  senses  and 
the  aesthetic  sensibilities  is  still  the  aim  of  the  artist,  he  has  to 
show  a  certain  decent  respect  to  our  experience  of  reality  in  the 
management  of  his  subject ;  this  not  being  purely  imaginary,  like 
the  figures  of  a  calico,  but  chosen  from  the  world  of  reality. 
Hence,  when  a  painter  makes  choice  of  the  human  figure,  in 
order  to  display  his  harmonies  of  colour,  and  beauties  of  form, 
and  picturesqueness  of  grouping, — he  ought  not  to  shock  our 
feeling  of  truth  and  consistency,  by  a  wide  departure  from  the 
usual  proportions  of  humanity.  We  do  not  look  for  anatomical 
exactness — we  know  that  the  studies  of  an  artist  do  not  imply 
the  knowledge  of  a  professor  of  anatomy  ;  but  we  expect  that  the 
main  features  of  reality  shall  be  adhered  to.  In  like  manner,  a 
poet  is  not  great  because  he  exhibits  human  nature  with  literal 
fidelity ;  to  do  that  would  make  the  reputation  of  a  historian, 


THE    artist's   regard    TO    TRUTH.  64;j 

or  a  mental  philosopher.  The  poet  is  great  by  his  metres,  his 
cadences,  his  images,  his  picturesque  groupings,  his  graceful  nar- 
rative, his  exaltations  of  reality  into  the  region  of  ideality  ;  and  if, 
in  doing  all  this,  he  avoid  serious  blunders  or  gross  exaggerations, 
he  passes  without  rebuke,  and  earns  the  unqualified  honours  of 
his  genius. 

28.  The  attempt  to  reconcile  the  artistic  with  the  true, — 
art  with  nature, — has  given  birth  to  a  middle  school,  in  whose 
productions  a  restraint  is  put  upon  the  flights  of  pure  imagi- 
nation, and  which  claims  the  merit  of  informing  the  mind  as 
to  the  realities  of  the  world,  while  gratifying  the  various 
aesthetic  emotions.  Instead  of  the  tales  of  Fairy-Land,  the 
Arabian  Nights,  the  Eomances  of  Chivalry,  we  have  the 
modern  novelist,  with  his  pictures  of  living  men  and  m.anners. 
In  painting,  we  have  natural  scenery,  buildings,  men,  and 
animals,  represented  with  scrupulous  exactness.  The  sculptor 
and  the  painter  exercise  the  vocation  of  producing  portraits 
that  shall  hand  down  to  future  ages  the  precise  lineaments  of 
the  men  and  women  of  their  generation.  Hence,  the  study  of 
nature  has  become  a  main  element  in  artistic  education  ;  and 
the  artist  often  speaks  as  if  the  exhibition  of  truth  were  his 
prime  endeavour,  and  his  highest  honour.  It  is  probably 
this  attempt,  to  subject  imagination  to  the  conditions  of  truth 
and  reality,  that  has  caused  the  singular  transference  already 
mentioned,  whereby  the  definition  of  science  has  been  made 
the  definition  of  art. 

Now,  I  have  every  desire  to  do  justice  to  the  merits  of  the 
truth-seeking  artist.  Indeed,  the  importance  of  the  recon- 
ciliation that  he  aims  at  is  undeniable.  It  is  no  slight  matter 
to  take  out  the  sting  from  pleasure,  and  to  avoid  corrupting 
our  nations  of  reality,  while  gratifying  our  artistic  sensibilities. 
A  sober  modern  romancist  does  not  outrage  the  probabilities 
of  human  life,  nor  excite  delusive  and  extravagant  hopes,  in 
the  manner  of  the  middle-age  romances.  The  change  is  in  a 
good  direction. 

Nevertheless,  there  is,  and  always  will  be,  a  distinction 
between  the  degree  of  truth  attainable  by  an  artist,  and  the 
degree  of  truth  attained  by  a  man  of  science  or  a  man  of 
business.     The  poet,  let  him  desire    it   never  so   much,  cannot 


646  CONSTEUCTIVE    ASSOCIATION. 

Study  realities  with  an  undivided  attention.  His  readers  do  not 
desire  truth  simply  for  its  own  sake ;  neither  will  they  accept 
it  in  the  severe  forms  of  an  accurate  terminology.  The  scien- 
tific man  has  not  wantonly  created  the  diagi'ams  of  Euclid, 
the  symbols  of  Algebra,  or  the  uneouthness  of  technical  Anatomy; 
he  was  forced  into  these  repulsive  elements,  because,  in  no 
other  way,  could  he  seize  the  realities  of  nature  with  precision. 
It  cannot  be  supposed  that  the  utmost  plenitude  of  poetic 
genius  shall  ever  be  able  to  represent  the  world  faithfully,  by 
discarding  all  these  devices  in  favour  of  flowery  ornament 
and  melodious  inetre.  We  ought  not  to  look  to  an  artist 
to  guide  us  to  truth  ;  it  is  enough  for  him  that  he  do  not  mis- 
guide us. 


APPENDIX. 

A. — DeHnitiun  and  Divisions  of  Mind. — p.  7. 

I.  Matiud  Solidarity  of  the  Three  Power.^. — It  is  made  a  question 
whether  the  three  fundamental  properties  of  mind  can  operate  in 
separation,  or  whether  they  are  always  and  necessarily  co-present 
though  in  different  degrees  of  comparative  intensity. 

The  most  rigid  view  of  their  essential  solidarity  compares  them 
to  the  inseparable  qualities  of  solid  matter, — as,  for  example,  size, 
shape,  and  colour.  Every  known  solid  possesses  these  three 
attributes,  as  its  very  essence  ;  we  could  not  withdraw  one  of 
them,  or  form  a  conceivable  compound  of  two.  We  may  have  all 
varieties  of  proportion  in  the  composition  of  a  solid  mass,  but  no 
absolute  separation. 

So  it  is  contended  that,  in  every  act  of  mind,  although  one  of 
the  three  constituents  may  preponderate,  yet  the  two  others 
must  also  be  operative,  however  feeble  may  be  the  degree  of  their 
activity.  The  analogy  thus  employed  is  by  no  means  a  close  one. 
The  composition  of  a  piece  of  matter,  and  the  concurrence  of  the 
great  fundamental  facts  of  mind  in  a  conscious  exercise,  are  so 
widely  disparate  in  character  that  we  cannot  reason  from  one  to 
the  other  with  any  assurance.  Indeed,  the  points  of  difference 
are  of  a  very  serious  character.  If  we  take  the  colour,  size,  and 
shape  of  a  mineral  mass,  we  can  suppose  any  one  of  the  three 
qualities  changed  to  any  amount,  without  change  in  the  two 
remaining.  In  tlie  case  of  the  mental  aggregate,  a  change  cannot 
be  made  in  any  one  constituent  without  affecting  the  degree  and 
direction  of  the  others  ;  sometimes  in  the  way  of  increase,  at 
other  times,  in  the  way  of  diminution. 

Among  the  fundamental  laws  of  mind,  we  include  statements 
of  the  mutual  action  of  the  three  great  powers — as  in  the  well- 
known  principle  of  the  inverse  relationship  of  Feeling  and  Thought. 
Without  finally  deciding  the  main  question,  this  circumstance  is 
sufficient  to  destroy  the  value  of  the  analogy  drawn  from  a  portion 
of  solid  matter. 

A  closer  comparison  might  be  found  with  the  organs  of  the 


648  APPENDIX. 

animal  body,  which  are  severally  and  collectively  indispensable  to 
the  life  of  the  organism,  while  they  are  not  all  equally  in  opera- 
tion at  every  moment.  Some,  as  the  heart  and  the  lungs,  can 
never  be  remitted,  nor  lowered  in  energy  beyoiad  a  certain  point  ; 
others,  as  the  stomach  and  the  brain,  can  be  inactive  for  hours 
together.  This,  too,  fails  to  represent  the  mode  of  concui-rence  of 
the  three  powers  of  the  mind. 

Abandonmg  the  search  for  analogies,  our  course  is  to  look  at 
the  facts  themselves  as  they  come  out  in  the  exposition  of  the 
mind.  Several  important  doctrines  are  connected  with  the  rela- 
tive preponderance  of  the  different  fundamental  powers,  and  with 
the  all  but  total  abeyance  of  one  or  other  on  certain  occasions. 

II.  Order  of  Depnidence  or  Causatiun  of  the  Three  Poirers. — The 
threefold  division  of  mind  seems  to  have  been  first  explicitly  made 
in  Germany,  in  the  last  century,  by  certain  almost  forgotten 
psychologists  who  flourished  in  the  interval  between  Wolf 
and  Kant.  In  so  far  as  Kant  troubled  himself  at  all  about  psy- 
chology, or  required  psychological  data,  in  executing  his  task  of 
criticizing  the  foundations  of  human  knowledge,  it  was  to  the 
works  of  these,  his  immediate  forerunners,  that  he  had  recourse. 
Thus,  he  follow^ed  their  principle  of  the  threefold  division  in  lay- 
ing out  the  parts  of  his  whole  critical  undertaking  ;  the  Critique 
of  Pure  Rfoaon  corresponding  to  Intellect  or  the  power  of  Cogni- 
tion, the  Critiijue  (f  Practical  Reason  to  Will  or  Action,  and  the 
Critique  of  the  Facidty  of  Judgment  to  Feeling  of  pain  and  pleasure. 
But  it  was  no  part  of  his  plan  to  work  out  the  principle  in  a 
psychological  exposition  of  mind. 

That  the  three  great  leading  functions  of  mind — Feeling, 
Will,  Cognition  —  act  and  re-act  on  each  other  in  a  variety  of 
forms,  has  been  made  abundantly  manifest  in  the  course  of  the 
exposition.  Feeling  contains  the  motives  to  the  Will;  Intellect  or 
Cognition  influences  the  feelings  and  is  influenced  by  them.  The 
precise  circumstances  and  conditions  of  these  re-actions  are  treated 
in  the  places  most  suited  to  their  exemplification. 

A  much  closer  and  more  vital  dependence  of  the  three  powers 
upon  one  another  has  been  contended  for.  Hamilton  holds  that 
Cognition  is  the  foundation  of  everything.  He  says,  '  every 
mental  phenomenon  is  either  an  act  of  knowledge,  or  only 
possible  through  an  act  of  knowledge ;  for  consciousness  is  a 
knowledge — a  phenomenon  of  cognition  '.     Eeferring  to  a  number 


DEPENDENCE    OF    THE    THREE    PRIMARY    POWERS.        64'.> 

of  German  philosophers,  who  hold  the  faculty  of  cognition  to  he 
the  source  or  origin  of  all  the  others,  he  says,  this  is  going  too  far. 
For,  '  although  pleasure  and  pain,  desire  and  volition,  are  only 
as  they  are  known  to  be ;  yet,  in  these  modifications,  a  quality, 
a  i>heni>mi:nou  of  mind,  ahmlutelij  iieir,  Jtax  been  saperarhhd,  which 
was  never  involved  in,  and  could,  therefore,  n^ver  have  been 
evolved  out  of,  the  mere  faculty  of  knowledge '. 

This  consideration,  however,  so  apparently  decisive,  has  had 
no  weight  with  German  psychologists  :  Herbart  and  his  followers 
deduce  from  purely  cognitive  processes  all  the  varieties  of  Feeling, 
while  these  in  their  turn  (as  admitted  universally)  are  the  movers 
of  the  Will. 

According  to  Herbart,  the  foundation  circumstance  in  the  play 
of  the  intellect  is  the  combination  and  interaction  of  certain 
ultimate  mental  states,  initiated  from  without ;  which  states  are 
nau:ed  pre.^<_'ntaii()n.^.  They  include  both  the  sensations  of  the 
senses  and  the  ideas  that  these  give  rise  to.  The  manner  of 
coming  and  going  of  these  presentations,  of  their  appearing  and 
disappearing,  their  conflict  and  concurrence,  is  the  basis  of  all 
the  explanations  of  the  Intellectual  powers.  Presentations  of 
contrary  quality  exclude  each  other  from  consciousness :  the 
weaker  is  said  to  suiYer  amd. 

The  full  bearing  of  this  mode  of  viewing  the  intellectual  powers 
will  be  considered  again  (see  note  G).  The  reference  here  is 
solely  concerned  with  the  genesis  of  Feeling,  or  Pleasure  and 
Pain.  When  diiTerent  presentations, — sensations  or  ideas — occui'- 
ring  together,  are  so  far  of  congenial  nature  as  to  support  each 
other  in  consciousness,  there  is,  as  it  were,  a  surplus  of  conscious 
energy,  and  that  surplus  is  pleasure.    The  obverse  situation  is  pain. 

In  all  the  explanations  offered  in  regard  to  pleasure  and 
pain,  the  harmony  or  conflict  of  concurring  states  is  always  put 
forth  as  an  important  circumstance,  and  as  regulating  one  class 
of  cases.  It  has  miich  to  do  with  the  pleasures  of  Fine  Art,  in 
which  harmony  plays  a  leading  part.  Now,  in  order  to  explain 
our  purely  sensuous  pleasures,  Herbart  has  to  make  an  altogether 
gratuitous  assumption, — namely,  that  these  are  made  up  of  con- 
curring presentations,  no  longer  separately  discernible.  It  is 
impossible  to  adduce  evidence  either  for  or  against  this  view,  and, 
as  a  hypothesis,  it  gives  no  help  to  the  understanding  of  sensation. 

The  doctrine  is  repeated  by  Volkmann,  and  illustrated  in  great 
detail,  but  without  any  attempt  to  relieve  its  difficulties. 


650  APPENDIX. 

'  Feeling  (pleasure  and  pain),'  he  says, '  isthe becoming  conscious 
of  the  degree  of  tension  of  the  representative  activity.  But  the 
tension  is  the  state  of  the  representative  activity,  either  pressed 
down  by  its  arrest,  or  freeing  itself  from  it.'  The  one  case  is 
Pain,  the  other  Pleasure. 

Yolkmann  uses  '  representation  '  to  cover  both  sensations  and 
ideas  ;  each  representation  has  its  content,  or  meaning,  and  its 
energy,  intensity,  or  activity,  according  to  which  it  asserts  itself 
in  the  conflict  with  other  representations.  The  sum  of  all  w^hich 
is,  as  in  Herbart,  that  a  single  presentation  or  representation  has 
an  intellectual  value,  but  does  not  give  birth  to  feeling  proper. 
When  pleasure  or  pain  is  the  result  of  a  solitary  stimulus, — as  a 
sweet  sound,  a  brilliant  flame,  or  a  bitter  taste,  there  is  a  hidden 
and  inscrutable  concurrence  or  conflict  of  simpler  states.  I  need 
only  repeat  that  the  entire  doctrine  is  a  pure  fiction  beyond  the 
reach  of  evidence.  For,  while  many  forms  of  pleasure  and  pain 
are  due  to  the  concurrence  or  collision  of  distinct  sensations  and 
ideas,  many  other  forms  result  in  the  plainest  manner  from  single 
or  individual  stimuli,  and  are  to  be  recognized  as  such. 

I  turn  next  to  the  mode  of  stating  the  fundamentals  of  mind 
adopted  by  Dr.  Ward,  who,  while  freely  embodying  the  German 
psychology,  casts  aside  the  doctrine  of  plui'al  presentations  as 
essential  to  Feeling.  He,  nevertheless,  maintains  that  the  pre- 
sentation, viewed  as  a  strictly  cognitive  element,  is  the  origin  or 
cause  of  our  pleasurable  and  painful  states. 

The  problem  of  Psychology,  according  to  Dr.  Ward,  '  is,  in 
general,  first,  to  ascertain  the  constituent  elements  of  mind, 
and  secondly,  to  ascertain  and  explain  the  laws  of  their  com- 
bination ' . 

Now,  it  seems  to  me  that  an  Introduction  may  properly  in- 
clude a  statement  of  the  constituent  elements  of  the  mind,  as 
highly  generalized,  and  as  clearly  defined  as  possible,  provided 
their  meaning  can  be  imparted  at  that  stage.  And  further,  if  the 
laws  of  their  combination  can  also  be  stated,  in  a  sufficientlv 
intelligible  form,  these  laws  may  be  enunciated  in  anticipation — 
like  the  Laws  of  Motion  in  Mechanics,  and  the  Atomic  Theory  in 
Chemistry. 

While  Dr.  Ward's  statement  of  Elements  is  in  the  usual  form, 
— Feeling,  Cognition  and  Will,- — his  formula  for  their  relation- 
ship and  mutual  action,  is  peculiar  and  not  over-intelligible  to  the 
beginner. 


FUNDAMENTALS   ACCORDING   TO    DR.    WARD.  651 

He  opens  by  remarking  that  when  we  say  I  feel,  I  will,  I 
think,  the  three  properties  are  stated  as  the  predicates  of  three 
propositions  with  a  common  subject — '/'.  Who  or  what  is  7 .? 
Is  it  merely  a  convenient  form,  of  the  natm^e  of  a  fiction,  or  is  it 
an  essential  factor  in  the  enmiieration  of  the  powers  or  attributes 
of  mind?  If  the  latter,  we  must  assign  four,  instead  of  tliree, 
essentials,  and  must  give  some  adequate  definition  of  I  to  start  with. 

The  author  does  furnish  some  reasons  for  laying  out  the  mind 
under  the  plan  of  Objects,  presented  to  a  Subject.  These  objects 
are  first,  Cognitions,  second,  Feelings,  third.  Movements.  The 
efficiency  of  the  whole  operation  depends  vitally  upon  a  grand 
store  of  energy  located  in  the  subject,  and  coming  into  play  under 
the  stimulus  of  the  Senses,  or  whatever  else  '  Presentation  '  covers. 
The  awakened  energy  of  the  subject  is  designated  by  an  old 
familiar  word — Attention.  The  quality  so  expressed  is  all-impor- 
tant :  it  is  the  means  of  converting  a  Cognitive  fact  (as  a  sensa- 
tion of  one  of  the  senses)  into  Feeling ;  and  of  further  converting 
a  Feeling  into  a  Movement, — which  is  Will. 

Considering  this  enormous  ascendency  of  the  Subject,  through 
its  power  of  Attention,  we  may  fairly  ask  a  more  special  account 
of  its  history  and  constitution.  How  come  we  to  have  such  an 
agency?  Is  it  intuitive,  as  many  would  be  willing  to  think,  or  is 
it  one  of  our  acquisitions  or  growths  ?  Has  it  anything  in  com- 
mon with  what  is  called,  in  other  connexions,  our  Self,  Person- 
ality, or  Ego,  which  is  regarded  as  a  work  of  years  to  mature? 
Once  more,  how  is  it  disentangled  from  the  elements  that  make 
its  vis-a-i-is  in  the  psychological  mechanism  ?  Did  these  contri- 
bute to  its  first  formation,  and  afterwards  take  up  tlieir  position 
in  the  way  supposed? 

I  understand  Dr.  Ward  to  maintain  that,  without  this  di^dsion 
of  the  mind,  we  should  have  propositions  all  predicate  and  no 
subject — a  logical  absurdity.  It  is  an  old  remark,  that  knowledge 
supposes  a  mind  knowing,  as  well  as  a  thing  known.  There  must 
be  some  way  of  reconciling  this  demand  ;  only,  we  must  beware  of 
plunging  into  still  greater  difficulties. 

The  most  staggering  circumstance  in  the  whole  scheme  is  the 
power  given  to  x\ttention  to  evolve  Feeling  out  of  w'hat  is  properly 
Cognition,  or  Intellect.  No  doubt,  Herbart  and  his  followers 
took  the  lead  here,  and  Hamilton  gave  a  qualified  concurrence. 
As  a  theory  of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  the  speculation,  in  all  its  forms, 
seems  to  me  at  variance  with  fact. 


652  APPENDIX. 

The  final  analysis  of  Mind,  according  to  Dr.  Ward,  consists 
in  recognizing  three  distinct  and  irreducible  facts:  attention, 
feeling,  and  objects — or  presentations.  Now,  according  to  him, 
there  are  two  ways  of  determining  attention  :  (1)  the  sensory  or 
receptive  state,  when  attention  is  non-volimtarily  determined — i.e., 
where  feelin'j  follows  the  act  of  attention  ;  and  (2)  the  motor  or 
active  state,  where  feeling  precedes  the  act  of  attention,  which  is 
then  determined  voluntarily. 

If  the  first  of  these  two  positions  were  as  obvious  as  the 
second,  it  might  be  admitted  as  a  generality  to  be  unfolded  and 
established  in  the  course  of  the  exposition.  That  Feeling,  once 
aroused,  brings  forth  Movement  or  Action,  is  the  statement  of 
the  Will ;  pleasurable  feeling  operating  in  one  direction,  painful 
feeling  in  the  other.  The  nature  of  the  link  betvi^een  the  two 
things  gives  rise  to  much  subtle  discussion  ;  but  the  main  circum- 
stance is  received  as  indisputable. 

It  is  very  different  with  the  first  position,  which  deals  with  the 
production  of  Feeling,  from  presentations,  under  the  strain  of 
Attention  on  the  part  of  the  Subject.  Let  us  take  the  wording 
of  it  in  the  tabular  scheme.  The  stages  are  these  : — (1)  sensory 
objects  presented  to  the  Subject ;  (2)  these  objects  make  changes 
in  the  sensory-continuum  ;  (3)  we  attend  (non-voluntarily)  to 
these  changes ;  (4)  we  are,  in  consequence,  either  pleased  or 
pained  ;  to  which  follows  the  second  stage  of  operations  for  bringing 
the  Will  into  exercise.  To  complete  the  theory,  the  author  adds, 
in  a  note,  that  trains  of  ideas  have  the  same  efficacy  as  changes 
in  the  seusory-continuum. 

While  the  theory  of  the  Will  is,  so  far,  a  manageable  problem, 
the  theory  of  Pleasure  and  Pain  is  the  abstrusest  question  of 
Psychology.  In  vain  have  we  endeavoured  to  generalize  the 
production  of  feeling  into  one  comprehensive  source.  Dr.  Ward's 
formula,  given  above,  must  be  regarded  in  the  light  of  his  sub- 
sequent explanations,  which  in  great  part  agree  with  the  views 
more  or  less  prevalent.  By  leaving  the  Subject  so  completely 
undefined,  he  does  not  show  the  way  out  of  the  following 
difficulties  : — 

(1)  If  change  of  sensory  experience,  in  the  shape  of  new  pre- 
sentations, with  the  aid  of  attention,  be  the  source  of  our  feelings, 
there  should  be  some  attempt  to  deal  with  the  numerous  excep- 
tions— namely,  the  cases  where  such  change  does  not  produce 
feeling,  and  the  cases  where,  apparently  at  least,  we  have  strong 


INTELLECTUAL  FOUNDATION  OF  FEELINGS  INADEQUATE.       653 

feelings  without  conscious    sensory  change,  and,  therefore,  also 
without  attention. 

That  a  very  large  number  of  our  sensations,  although  fully 
attended  to,  yield  neither  pleasure  nor  pain,  but  only  intellectual 
imagery,  is  too  evident  to  be  disputed.  Dr.  Ward,  at  a  later 
stage,  makes  allowance  for  this,  and  affords  various  hypothetical 
explanations.  But  a  position  so  very  open  to  exceptions  ought 
to  be  more  guarded,  even  on  its  first  announcement,  as  a  com- 
manding generality  of  all  mind. 

(2)  More  serious,  because  more  palpable,  is  the  other  objection, 
namely,  that  many  of  our  pleasures  and  pains  arise  without  any 
antecedent  presentation  to  the  Subject.  Change,  no  doubt,  there 
must  be  somewhere,  but  while  the  effect  is  conscious,  the  pro- 
ductive cause  escapes  our  consciousness,  and  never  reaches  the 
subject. 

The  strong  cases  here  are  to  be  found  among  our  Organic 
Sensations.  While  many  of  the  pleasures  and  pains  arising  in 
this  region  have  their  conscious  sensory  precursors,  many  have 
not.  Wakening  in  a  dark  room,  and  in  perfect  stillness,  we  fall 
into  a  condition  of  organic  pleasure  or  pain,  without  knowing 
w'hy.  There  are  changes  taking  place  in  the  system  that  would 
fully  account  for  this,  but  not  in  the  form  of  sensory  change 
acting  on  attention.  Should  there  be  a  certain  amount  of  ambiguity 
in  the  situation,  owing  to  our  consciousness  of  passing  out  of  sleep 
into  the  waking  condition,  this  is  removed  in  the  alternations  of 
feeling  throughout  the  day,  apart  from  the  known  occasions  of 
taking  food,  exercise,  or  rest.  Our  state  of  feeling  passes  through 
many  gradations,  to  which  no  conscious  antecedent  can  be 
assigned.  Physiological  science  aids  us  in  conjecturing  what 
the  changes  are,  and  the  theory  of  pleasure  and  pain  embraces 
this  situation  ;  but,  without  great  forcing,  it  could  not  come  under 
Dr.  W^ard's  formula. 

The  same  observation  applies  to  our  sudden  attacks  of  internal 
pain,  such  as  cramp,  or  neuralgia,  which  come  without  any 
assignable  antecedent.  No  doubt,  they  bring  a  sensoi'y  or  cogni- 
tive experience  with  them — we  not  only  feel  them  as  suffering, 
but  we  cognize  them  as  a  characteristic  I'evelation  to  our  intelli- 
gence ;  but  this  does  not  prove  that  the  cognitive  property  is  the 
cause,  and  the  suffering  the  effect. 

(3)  There  are  innumerable  cases  of  the  production  of  feeling, 
where  the  safest  view  to  take  is,  'that  the  cognitive  and  the  hedonic 


654  APPENDIX. 

elements  are  simply  concurring  or  coincident,  without  assignable 
causation  on  either  side.  After  being  fully  manifested  in  con- 
sciousness, the  two  act  and  re-act  in  understood  ways,  but  neither 
owes  its  first  origin  to  the  other. 

In  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  the  five  senses,  there  is  always 
an  intellectual  presentation  ;  and,  in  some  cases,  a  plurality, — as 
where  an  object  affects  several  senses,  for  example,  a  piece  of 
sugar.  The  tasting  property  of  sugar  is  a  mixture  of  two  effects  ; 
it  is  a  pure  assumption  to  say  that  either  causes  the  other,  seeing 
that  in  so  many  of  our  organic  states  there  is  feeling  with  no 
assignable  antecedent  of  the  nature  of  a  sense  presentation. 

The  more  usual  explanation  of  the  higher  instiiictive  emotions, 
as  Love  and  Anger,  is  that  they  are  accumulated  and  hereditary 
associations  of  sociable  feelings  with  certain  sensory  objects.  The 
occurrence  of  the  object  is  the  occurrence  of  the  feeling,  not  as 
cause  and  effect,  but  as  blended  or  united  qualities.  Before  the 
association  was  formed,  the  image  of  another  personality  would 
have  no  power  to  induce  the  emotion  of  love  or  hate. 

This  is  the  assumption  that  best  fits  the  ordinary  senses,  as 
well  as  the  imagery  that  grows  out  of  their  exercise.  A  cognitive 
presentation  in  abstract  purity,  giving  birth  to  a  pleasurable  or 
painful  feeling,  is  a  possible  supposition  in  certain  circumstances  ; 
while  the  concurrence  of  several  presentations,  individually  barren 
and  feelingless,  may,  through  the  fact  of  coalition,  be  a  cause  of 
pleasure  or  of  pain ;  but  this  case  is  still  less  fitted  to  represent 
the  whole  compass  of  our  feelings. 

Everything  is  more  or  less  vague,  until  we  settle  precisely  what 
is  included  in  the  Subject.  If  it  is  the  permanent  aggregate  of 
mental  growths,  in  all  the  three  spheres,  its  capacities  of  respond- 
ing to  presentation  and  stimulation  are,  without  doubt,  very  numer- 
ous. Nevertheless,  the  production  of  feeling  by  awakening  echoes 
of  the  past  may  be  expressed  better,  without  the  assumption  we 
are  now  discussing. 

B. — Pleasure  and  Pain. — p.  317. 

The  principle  mentioned  in  the  text  as  modifying  the  law  that 
connects  pleasure  with  increase  and  pain  with  diminution  of  vital 
force — the  principle  of  Stimulation — covers  and  includes  various 
laws  more  or  less  recognized  in  our  common  experience.  The 
connexion  of  Pleasure  with  Eemission  or  Change,  in  other  words, 


LAWS    OF    PLEASURE    AND    PAIN.  655 

the  law  of  cessation  and  change  of  stimulus,  as  culminating  in  the 
well-known  pleasures  of  Novelty,  does  not  exactly  coincide  with 
the  law  of  vitality. 

Interval  of  time,  according  to  this  further  principle,  has  an 
absolute  vcdue,  and  is  not  simply  relative  to  nourishment  of  tissue. 
A  week's  confiaement,  with  privation  of  all  muscular  exercise, 
would  impart  a  peculiar  zest  or  relish  to  the  I'esumption  of  the 
usual  activities;  while,  in  point  of  fact,  the  muscular  organs  would 
be  in  a  far  worse  condition  than  if  they  had  been  put  through  their 
accustomed  daily  exercise.  When  General  Wolseley  disembarked 
in  Egypt,  with  an  expeditionary  force,  he  found  his  operations 
retarded  by  the  inability  of  the  horses  to  gallop ;  yet,  we  may  be 
quite  sure  that  their  enjoyment  of  the  free  use  of  their  limbs 
was  much  greater  than  their  ordinary  delight  in  the  daily 
exercise  of  them. 

There  is  no  necessary  contradiction  or  contrariety  between  the 
law  of  change  for  the  sake  of  change  and  the  law  of  expenditure 
of  renewed  vigour.  Nevertheless,  the  statement  of  the  one  needs 
to  be  supplemented,  or  somehow  modified,  to  include  the  other. 
Only  by  an  independent  induction  could  we  ascertain  that  the 
pleasm-e  of  a  stimulus  follows,  in  the  first  place,  the  nourishment 
of  the  organ,  and,  in  the  second  place,  the  interval  of  remission. 
The  two  facts  are  distinct  in  their  nature,  and  each  needs  to  be 
studied  on  its  own  ground,  and  not  to  be  inferred  from  the  known 
workings  of  the  other.  An  organ  is  at  its  very  best,  in  point  of 
preparation  for  activity,  by  being  exercised,  up  to  the  proper 
limits,  without  the  loss  of  a  single  day — as  in  the  training  of 
pedestrians,  mountain-climbers,  boxers,  or  athletes.  The  high 
physical  condition  thus  gradually  established  yields  its  due 
amount  of  the  pleasure  of  exercise  ;  but,  to  obtain  the  other 
pleasure,  there  must  be  longer  periods  of  remission,  even  at  the 
cost  of  inferior  vigour  in  resuming  the  exertion. 

The  same  line  of  observations  may  be  taken  in  regard  to  the 
more  purely  nervous  and  mental  acti\aties.  To  keep  up  the 
intellectual  energies  to  their  highest  efficiency,  they  need  to  be 
maintained  in  steady  exercise,  with  due  observance  of  the  limits 
of  over- fatigue.  To  gain  the  pleasures  of  freshness  in  any  one 
mode  of  effort,  there  needs  to  be  a  much  greater  remission  than 
is  implied  in  their  daily  repose  ;  and,  when  that  larger  remission 
is  allowed,  as  in  school  vacations,  it  is  found  that  the  renewed 
zest  is  accompanied  with  temporary  falling  off  in  efficiency. 


656  APPENDIX. 

Thus,  The  law  of  vitahty  or  conservation,  besides  being  directly 
contradicted  by  notorious  cases  of  sense  pleasures  and  pains,  fails 
still  more  remarkably  when  we  put  it  through  the  ordeal  of 
measured  concomitance.  Acute  pains  are,  no  doubt,  often 
connected  with  injury  of  some  of  the  organs  or  tissues  ;  but  there 
is  no  proportion  between  the  acuteness  of  the  pain  and  the  injury 
to  the  parts  aiifected :  while,  on  the  other  hand,  a  very  large 
number  of  deteriorating  influences  are  either  devoid  of  painful 
accompaniments  altogether,  or  are  so  slightly  productive  of  pain  as 
to  give  no  indication  of  the  actual  deterioration  of  the  organs 
concerned. 

There  is  another  notable  aspect  of  this  failure  of  concomitance. 
It  is  best  brought  out  in  the  attempts  to  explain  the  pleasures  of 
Fine  Art,  of  which  the  most  characteristic  and  essential  are  the 
effects  due  to  complication  and  harmonious  adjustment.  The 
remarkable  circumstance  in  connexion  with  harmony  is  the 
astonishingly  intense  pleasure  attainable  from  its  higher  modes — 
that  is  to  say,  as  the  harmony  increases,  the  pleasure  also 
increases  out  of  all  proportion.  What  is  there  in  a  fine  voice  to 
make  such  an  extraordinary  impression  on  the  senses  and  the 
mind,  as  compared  with  a  more  ordinary  one  ?  The  physical 
difference  of  the  two  is  supposed  to  be  resolvable  into  a  readjust- 
ment of  the  over-tones  that  make  up  the  special  timbre  of  each  ; 
and  how  such  minute  adjustments  can  suffice  to  make  the 
difference  between  an  average  singer  and  Mario,  or  Jenny  Lind, 
is  utterly  baffling  in  our  present  knowledge.  There  is  a  parallel 
difficulty  in  the  delicacy  of  stimulants  and  articles  of  food,  for 
which  no  explanation  can  as  yet  be  offered. 

The  same  anomaly  appears  in  aesthetic  combinations  of  a  still 
higher  kind — as  in  a  musical  air  or  a  poetical  cadence.  That  a 
certain  succession  of  notes,  the  so-called  musical  sentence  or 
theme,  should  have  a  perennial  charm  to  the  human  ear,  is  a 
fact  that  has  been  partly,  but  not  fully,  accounted  for.  The 
three  circumstances  that  have  been  adduced  by  Sully  and  others, 
viz.,  musical  concord  of  successive  notes,  intellectual  unity,  and 
expression  of  emotion — completely  fail  when  applied  to  the 
extreme  cases.  For,  as  shown  by  Gurney,  there  is  some  residual 
element  of  fascination,  at  present  beyond  the  reach  of  analysis. 
Possibly,  the  elements  that  have  been  assigned,  and  more 
especially  the  delicate  expression  of  emotion,  might  suffice  for 
the  explanation,  if  our  means  of  analysis  and  verbal  definition 


STIMULATION  AND  THE  LAW  OF  CEEDIT.       657 

were  equal  to  the  subtlety  of  the  case.  As  it  is,  we  find  ourselves 
face  to  face  with  an  insoluble  puzzle.  The  felicities  of  our  poets 
have  been  subjected  to  a  critical  scrutiny  by  Gurney ;  and, 
although  the  constituents  are  more  tangible  in  poetry  than  in 
music  by  itself,  he  maintains,  with  apparent  success,  the  inscruta- 
bility of  the  resulting  emotion. 

To  cite  another  example.  The  charm  arising  from  the  human 
form  is  partly  explicable  by  circumstances  that  have  been 
assigned,  but  with  the  same  residual  difficulty  in  accounting  for 
the  extraordinary  rate  of  increase  according  as  the  points  of 
excellence  are  refined  upon. 

It  is  further  worthy  of  remark,  that  stimulation  is  the  ground- 
work of  the  law  or  principle  of  Credit,  whereby  we  can  attain 
present  pleasure  at  the  cost  of  the  future.  Like  running  into 
debt  in  the  affairs  of  life,  this  is  at  once  an  essential  of  human 
efficiency  and  progress,  and  a  region  of  our  greatest  tendencies  to 
abuse.  If  the  system  never  gave  forth  more  response  to  pleasure 
than  the  strength  of  the  moment  could  fully  defray,  we  should  no 
doubt  be  saved  from  ruinous  temptations,  but  we  should  also  be 
checked  in  our  noblest  and  most  legitimate  efforts  to  improve  the 
human  condition.  Yet,  where  such  a  licence  exists,  the  principle 
that  would  connect  pleasure  and  pain  with  increase  and  diminution 
of  vitality,  is  conspicuously  falsified  or  suspended.  It  is  not 
merely  the  readiness  to  forestall  the  future  for  the  sake  of  the 
present  ;  it  is  the  absence  of  anj-  adequate  security  for  repayment 
when  our  means  will  allow  it.  The  downgrade  tendency  of  human 
life,  the  shortening  of  the  natural  period  allotted  to  man  on  the 
earth,  may  be  principally  resolved  into  this  particular  outcome  of 
the  law  of  Stimulation. 

Review  of  Darivin  cm  '  Expression  '. 

Charles  Darwin,  in  his  work,  entitled  The  Expression  of  the  Emotions 
in  Man  and  Animals,  has  made  very  considerable  additions  both  to  the 
facts  and  to  the  theories  of  Emotional  Expression — a  subject  handled  at 
some  length  in  the  present  volume.  I  propose  to  compare  his  conclusions 
with  the  views  given  in  my  chapter  on  the  Instincts. 

Three  principles  are  put  forward  as  suinming  up  the  facts. 

The  first  is  entitled  '  The  Principle  of  Serviceable  Associated  Habits '. 
As  an  example,  a  frown  accompanies  and  expresses  states  of  pain,  of 
anxiety,  of  deliberation,  because  it  was  originally  useful  in  screening  the 
eyes  from  the  sun  in  circumstances  of  anxiety. 

42 


•658  APPENDIX. 

This  principle  implies  three  assumptions :— (1)  Voluntary  movement, 
or  movement  for  ends,  is  an  earlier  fact  than  Emotional  or  purposeless 
movement.  (2)  Voluntary  movements  become  associated  with  the  feelings 
that  occasioned  them,  so  as  to  be  manifested,  although  there  is  no  proper 
act  of  the  will.  (3)  These  associated  movements  are  transmitted  by 
Inheritance.  This  last  is  the  carrying  out  of  Darwin's  own  doctrine  of 
Evolution. 

The  second  principle  is  called  '  Antithesis,*  and  is  intended  to  account 
for  certain  cases  where  an  expression  is  stimulated,  not  by  a  positive 
association  with  the  feeling,  but  by  a  motive  of  antagonism  or  contra- 
diction to  some  established  expression  of  the  opposite  feeling.  Thus,  a 
dog,  in  a  savage  mood,  has  certain  movements  and  gesticulations  posi- 
tively associated  with  his  angry  and  aggressive  passion,  being  the  mcipient 
movements  of  a  destructive  onslaught ;  a  dog,  in  an  affectionate  mood,  not 
having  a  positive  endo^vment  corresponding  to  affection,  chooses  the  most 
exact  contrast  or  opposition  to  his  angry  demeanoiu-. 

The  third  principle  is  'The  principle  of  actions  due  to  the  consti- 
tution of  the  Nervous  Sj^stem,  independently  of  the  will  fi'om  the  first, 
and  independently  to  a  certain  extent  of  Habit'  ;  more  briefly,  it  is 
stated  as  the  principle  of  '  the  direct  action  of  the  nervous  system  '. 
The  reader  of  the  present  work  will  recognize  in  this  what  I  have  termed 
the  Law  of  Diffiision.  Darwin  quotes  the  statement  I  have  given  of  the 
law,  and  remarks  that  it  '  seems  too  general  to  throw  much  light  upon 
special  expression ' — which  is  quite  true  i  nevertheless,  he  himself  em- 
ploys, for  that  Aery  pmpose,  a  mode  of  stating  it  that  I  believe  to  be 
still  more  vague. 

The  order  of  these  principles  is  the  inverse,  or  analytic  order,  which 
is,  on  some  occasions,  more  convenient  than  the  direct  or  synthetic. 
If  we  were  to  start  from  what  is  primitive  or  primordial,  we  should 
begin  with  the  last-named  principle,  'the  dnect  action  of  the  nervous 
system ".  The  two  others  are  subsequent  and  superinduced  upon  this  ; 
more  especially  is  that  named  first,  which  is  the  author's  own  law  of 
Evolution  or  Inheritance,  a  later  effect— or  a  growth  or  addition  to  the 
simpler  process  of  nervous  diffusion.  Tlie  characteristic  feature  of  the 
book  is  the  applying  of  Evolution  to  account  for  the  phenomena  of 
expression.  The  two  other  laws  are  less  often  appealed  to.  Wielding 
an  instrument  of  such  flexibility  and  range  as  the  inheritance  of  acquned 
powers,  a  theorist  can  afford  to  dispense  with  the  exhaustive  consideration 
of  what  may  be  due  to  the  primitive  mechanism  of  the  system  ;  he  is 
even  tempted  to  slight  the  primitive  capabilities,  just  as  the  disbeliever 
in  Evolution  is  apt  to  stretch  a  point  in  favom-  of  these  origmal  capa- 
bilities. 

]\Iy  readers  are  awai-e  that  I  put  great  stress  upon  two  primitive 
tendencies  of  the  system,  besides  Diffusion — namely,  the  Spontaneity  of 
Movements,  and  the  Law  connecting  Pleasure  and  Pain  with  augmented 
and  lowered  vitality.      Now,  both  of  these  powers,  physically  viewed, 


DARWIX    ON    EXPRESSION.  659 

entei",  with  marked  prominence,  into  the  expression  of  the  Feehngs. 
Darwin  never  mentions  the  doctrine  of  Spontaneity  :  he  alhides  to  my 
statement  of  the  Law  of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  withoiit  saying  whether  he 
agrees  or  disagrees  with  it  in  the  general  formtda ;  but,  in  his  detail 
of  facts,  he  adduces  many  examples  of  it  so  striking  that  he  cannot 
help  expressing  them  in  the  phraseology  of  the  principle.  His  second 
law,  the  law  of  Antithesis,  to  a  small  extent  coincides  with  the  law  of 
Pleasure  and  Pain  ;  biit  it  is  ill-fitted  to  supersede  that  law,  as  I  will 
endeavovu'  to  show. 

Conceiving  as  I  do,  that  the  Spontaneity  of  Movements  is  a  gi'eat 
fact  of  the  constitution,  with  important  consequences  both  emotional 
and  vohtional,  I  will  here  pomt  out  its  bearings  on  Expression.  In  so 
doing,  I  must  define  precisely  what  it  consists  in,  and  how  far  it  reaches. 

By  Spontaneity,  I  understand  the  readiness  to  pass  into  movement, 
in  the  absence  of  all  stimulation  whatever ;  the  essential  requisite  being 
that  the  nerve  centres  and  the  muscles  are  fresh  and  vigorous.  We 
may  never  in  our  waking  hoiu's  be  wholly  free  from  the  stimulation  of 
the  senses  ;  but,  in  the  exuberance  of  nervous  power,  om*  activity  is  out  of 
all  propoi'tion  to  the  actual  solicitation  of  the  feelings.  The  gesticulations 
and  the  carols  of  young  and  active  animals  are,  I  conceive,  mere  overflow 
of  nervous  energy  ;  and  although  they  are  very  apt  to  concur  with 
pleasing  emotion,  they  have  an  independent  source  :  then-  origm  is  more 
phj'sical  than  mental ;  they  are  not  properly  movements  of  expression— 
they  express  nothing  at  all,  except  an  abimdant  stock  of  physical  power. 

To  obtain  a  correct  estimate  of  the  expression  of  joy,  for  example, 
the  spontaneity  must  be  allowed  for  and  subtracted.  This  may  not  be 
very  easy  ;  yet  the  separation  of  the  two  facts  is  quite  supposable,  and  is 
occasionally  realized.  The  spontaneity  conciu-s  with  mornuig  freshness, 
or  with  the  oiitburst  after  confinement,  and  will  show  itself  in  the  absence 
of  pleasurable  stimulants  ;  although  these  would  operate  in  the  same 
direction,  and  the  two  effects  would  be  indistinguishable.  The  expression 
of  pleasure  is  shown  in  isolation  when  the  flush  of  spontaneity  has  passed 
by,  and  when  a  certain  amoimt  of  exercise  has  drawn  off  the  exuberant 
and  surplus  energy  of  the  system ;  it  is  also  sho'uii  in  constitutions  so 
languid  or  inactive  as  never  to  have  any  surplus. 

In  a  passage  already  quoted  (p.  311),  Darwm  ob^^ouslJ'  combines 
spontaneity  with  joyful  expression.  The  first  case  cited  by  him — the 
demeanour  of  childi'en — is  usually  a  mixtiu'e  of  exuberance  and  sportive 
pleasure  ;  the  second — the  dog  walking  out — contains  a  known  element 
of  pleasure  ;  the  last — the  frisking  of  the  horse — is  almost  pure  spon- 
taneity — it  does  not  necessarily  express  Joy  or  Pleasme  at  all. 

The  com'se  taken  in  the  spontaneous  outbvu'st  of  movements  is  the 
most  usual  or  habitual  channels  of  activity.  The  locomotive  nmscles  are 
the  first  to  be  affected  :  actions  that  may  have  become  habitual  in  tlie  pur- 
suit of  ends  are  excited  piu'poselessly  when  the  system  is  fresh.  Kunning, 
jumping,  shouting,  talking,  may  be  induced  in  this  way.     Any  special 


660  APPENDIX. 

trick  or  practice  may  be  incited  ;  as  when  the  dog,  after  reHeving  him- 
self, vehemently  scratches  the  ground.  Survivals  may  be  maintained  by 
no  otlier  mode  of  exercise  than  wliat  is  stiunalated  under  the  spontaneous 
discharge  of  activity.  Assuming  the  scrapmg  of  the  dog  to  be  an  action 
once  useful,  but  no  longer  so,  it  would  fall  into  disuse  but  for  its  bemg 
repeated  in  the  moments  of  abounding  energy. 

The  most  frequent  mode  of  displaying  exuberant  force  is  in  following 
.  some  pleasure  that  chances  to  be  at  hand,  in  itself  perhaps  trifling,  and 
at  other  times  utterly  neglected.  Finding  ourselves  in  possession  of 
productive  energy,  we  seek  occasions  for  turning  it  to  account  ;  if  great 
opportunities  do  not  present  themselves,  we  are  content  with  small. 
This  is  one  aspect  of  play,  in  children  and  in  playful  animals.  The 
kitten  is  not  seriously  in  love  with  a  worsted  ball,  nor  a  dog  with  a  stone  ; 
but,  under  superabundance  of  nerve  force,  these  trifling  objects  are  so 
magnified  as  to  become  an  inspiring  pursuit.  There  is  an  exact  par- 
allel in  the  desultory  activity  of  men  by  nature  incontinently  energetic. 

The  spontaneity  due,  not  to  natural  exuberance,  but  to  excitement, 
is  equall}"  devoid  of  meaning  as  regards  feeling  or  emotion.  The  nervoiis 
centres  are  profusely  active,  and  that  is  the  whole  fact  ;  the  concurrence 
of  some  degree  of  pleasure  or  of  pain  does  not  alter  the  situation,  although 
helping  to  complicate  it.  The  causes  of  excitement  are  niimerous  :  there 
may  be  a  mental  state  accompanying  it,  but  the  physical  outburst  does 
not  represent  a  mental  mood,  it  only  gives  evidence  of  the  molecular 
energy  of  the  nervous  centres. 

A  man  under  excitement  paces  his  room,  to  and  fro,  sits  down  and 
starts  up  ;  never  rests  in  one  posture.  The  excitement  may  be  attended 
witli  pleasure  or  with  pain,  with  love  or  with  hatred ;  but  these  are  not 
what  the  demeanour  expresses.  If  the  precise  mood  is  expressed  at  all,  it 
is  bj'  some  display  superadded  to,  and  distingi;ished  from,  the  general 
excitement.  The  extreme  case  is  delirium — in  which  the  violence  of  the 
movements  has  nothing  answering  to  it  in  the  mental  condition  :  the 
delirious  patient  being  often  unconscious. 

As  with  natural  exuberance,  so  with  excitement,  the  movements  are 
chosen  and  determined  by  the  habitual  channels  of  the  nerve  force,  due 
to  the  circumstances  regulating  the  life  and  activity  of  the  individual. 
Inasmuch  as  locomotion  is  the  prevailing  mode  of  action,  with  all  animals, 
excitement  tends  b}^  preference  to  rapid  locomotive  efforts.  With  excited 
human  beings,  the  upper  extremities  gesticulate  in  some  of  the  usual  and 
characteristic  actions — as  in  going  through  the  formality  of  striking  a  blow. 

I  will  now  advert  to  Darwin's  handling  of  what  I  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  style  the  Law  of  Diffusion.  It  is  explained  at  length  in  the 
introductory  chapter  of  The  Emotions  and  the  Will.  By  Darwin,  the 
general  principle  is  expx-essed  thus  :  '  When  the  sensorium  is  strongly 
excited,  nerve  force  is  generated  in  excess,  and  is  transmitted  in  certain 
definite  directions,  depending  on  the  connexion  of  the  nerve  cells,  and 


DARWIN    ON    EXPRESSION.  661 

partly  on  habit ;  or  the  supply  of  nerve  force  may,  as  it  appears,  be 
interrupted  '.  This  statement  does  not  sufiiciently  distinguish  the  excited 
spontaneity  of  the  centres  from  the  effects  due  to  a  feeling.  The  proper 
law  of  Diffusion  supposes  a  sensory  stimulus — as  light,  sound,  and  odour 
— affecting  the  nervous  centres,  and,  while  accompanied  by  a  state  of 
pleasiu-e  or  pain,  inducing  a  wave  of  movements  and  other  effects  by  the 
outgoing  nervous  current.  The  start  from  a  sudden  shot  exemplifies  the 
diffusive  nervous  action  ;  and  the  general  law  of  that  action,  as  more 
explicitly  promulgated  by  Spencer,  is  that  the  diffusive  display,  the 
energy  of  the  gestici;lation  and  movements,  is  directly  as  the  intensity 
of  the  stimulus  or  shock — a  feeble  sound,  miexpected,  gives  a  sUght  dis- 
turbance ;  a  loud  sharp  soimd  causes  a  violent  start  {The  Principles  of 
Psychology,  i.  92). 

Darwin,  in  his  concluding  expression,  '  the  nerve  force  may  be  inter- 
napted,'  allows  for  the  cases  where  the  severity  of  a  blow  paralyzes  the 
nervous  system. 

It  is  true  of  the  diffusive  display,  caused  by  stimulating  one  of  the 
senses,  or  by  some  emotion  anyhow  arising,  as  of  the  spontaneous  dis- 
charge, that  the  channels  selected  by  it  will  depend  upon  the  structural 
connexions  of  the  nerve  centres,  whatever  may  have  brought  about  those 
connexions.  Nevertheless,  diffusion  in  response  to  a  sensory  or  emotional 
stimulus,  is  more  specially  limited  than  spontaneity  ;  and,  hence,  the 
expressiveness  and  character  of  the  movements  under  feeling.  We  shall 
see  what  are  these  various  guiding  and  limiting  circumstances. 

The  follo^\-ing  are  a  few  of  the  instances  where  Darwin  adverts  to 
diffusion,  or  direct  nervous  actions  :— He  adduces,  first,  the  sudden  change 
of  the  colour  of  the  hair,  under  terror  or  grief,  as  a  case  in  pohit.  He 
next  brings  forward  a  number  of  instances  connected  with  the  extreme 
forms  of  pam  and  terror,  and  dwells  particularly  on  the  muscular  tremb- 
lings in  fear.  In  contortions  of  pain,  he  remarks,  that  nearly  every 
muscle  of  the  body  is  brought  into  violent  action ;  admitting,  however, 
that  much  of  this  excessive  action  is  due  to  the  promptings  of  the  %vill 
to  mollify  the  pain.  Again,  many  of  the  signs  of  rage  (not  all)  he 
attributes  to  the  direct  action  of  the  excited  sensorium  ;  not  only  the 
gestures  and  movements,  but  also  the  influence  on  the  heart's  action, 
and  the  circulation  of  the  blood.  Further,  joy  quickens  the  circvilation, 
and  this  stimulates  the  brain,  which  again  reacts  on  the  whole  body. 
Also,  terror,  in  all  animals,  causes  tremblings  of  the  body,  relaxes  the 
sphincter  muscles,  disturbs  the  heart  and  the  breathing,  and  leads  in  the 
end  to  utter  prostration,  and  even  fainting.  Pain  and  fear,  if  great,  are 
depressing  ;  if  not  so  great,  they  are  stinnUating.  These  are  the  leading 
instances  in  the  chapter  expressly  devoted  to  the  principle  of  direct 
nervous  action.  A  few  scattered  references  occur  in  other  chapters  :  the 
lashing  and  curling  of  the  tail  in  animals  under  excitement  (126)  ;  the 
sympathetic  action  of  unnecessary  nmscles,  along  with  those  that  are  at 
the  time  necessary  (166),  as  in  closing  the  eyes,  and  the  mouth. 


662  APPENDIX. 

These  examples  are,  obviously,  complicated  with  the  effects  special  to 
pleasure  and  pain  ;  they  are  the  very  cases  that  I  have  always  adduced 
in  support  of  my  view  of  the  primary  law  connecting  increased  vitality 
with  pleasurable,  and  diminished  with  pamful,  emotion.  The  best 
example  for  diffusion  by  itself  is  Surprise  or  astonishment  ;  there  being 
numerous  instances,  as  I  believe,  of  sm'prise  without  any  marked  degree 
of  either  pleasure  or  pam. 

It  would  appear,  therefore,  that  the  principle  of  '  direct  action ' 
cannot  be  carried  to  any  length,  without  raising  the  question  as  to 
the  distinctive  modes  of  expression  under  pleasure  and  under  pain. 
Either  the  diffusion  is  the  same,  in  degi'ee  and  in  character,  whether 
the  primary  shock  be  pleasmg  or  painful  ;  or  there  is  a  difference. 
If  there  is  a  difference,  what  is  it  ?  Until  this  question  is  probed  to 
the  bottom,  everjiihmg  is  vague. 

Darwin,  in  describing  particular  instances,  occasionally  notices  the 
invigoration  attending  pleasure,  and  the  depression  and  exhaustion  often 
attending  pain,  notwithstanding  its  being  a  stimulus  to  activity.  He 
remarks  the  contrast  in  natiu-e  between  the  so-called  exciting  and  the 
depressing  states  of  the  mind  (78).  '  Under  the  expectation  of  any  great 
pleasiu'e,  dogs  boimd  and  jump  about  in  an  extravagant  manner,  and 
bai'k  for  joy '  (122).  Monkeys  tremble  for  fear,  void  their  evacuations, 
and  almost  faint  (146).  The  screams,  groans,  and  writhings  of  extreme 
pain,  are  followed  by  profuse  sweating,  pallor,  trembling,  utter  prostra- 
tion, or  faintness  (147).  After  excessive  gi'ief,"  '  the  ciix-ulation  becomes 
languid  ;  the  face  pale  ;  the  muscles  flaccid  ;  the  eyelids  droop  ;  the  head 
hangs  on  the  contracted  chest  ;  the  lips,  cheeks,  and  lower  jaw  sink  ; 
the  features  are  lengthened,  the  face  is  said  to  falU  (178).  In  high  spu'its, 
a  man  holds  liis  body  erect,  his  head  upright,  and  his  eyes  open  (212). 
'  With  all  the  races  of  men,  the  expression  of  good  spirits  appears  to  be 
the  same '  (213).  A  similar  strain  of  observations  occurs  in  Sir  Charles 
Bell's  work  on  Expression. 

It  is  only  under  his  prmciple  of  Antithesis  that  Darwin  makes  any 
attempt  to  generalize  the  contrastmg  expression  of  pleasure  and  pain. 
Indeed,  the  chief  examples  that  lend  an  unequivocal  support  to  that 
prmciple  are  examples  coming  under  the  present  head.  I  will,  therefore, 
now  review  his  mode  of  expounding  that  principle. 

'  Certain  states  of  mmd  lead  to  habitual  movements  which  were 
primarily,  or  may  still  be,  of  service  ;  when  a  directly  opposite  state 
of  mind  is  induced,  there  is  a  strong  and  involuntary  tendency  to  the 
performance  of  movements  of  an  opposite  nature,  though  these  have 
never  been  of  any  service.'  Such  is  the  principle  of  Antithesis.  It  is 
illustrated,  in  the  first  instance,  by  a  reference  to  the  lower  animals : 
and  the  leading  example  is  the  dog,  who  has  attained,  by  hereditary 
transmission,  the  attitude  and  actions  belonging  to  the  aggressive  mood, 
but  has  no  such  hereditary  endowment  for  affection  and  fondness ;  what 
he   does,  therefore,  when  his  affection  is  roused,  is  to  reverse  aU  the 


DARWIX    ON    EXPRESSION.  663' 

aggressive  movements.  The  movements  of  the  cat,  under  the  two  opposing 
states — hostiUty  and  affection — are  represented  to  have  the  same  exact 
antithesis.  The  great  example  in  man  is  the  '  shrugging  the  shoulders  ' — 
which  is  stated  as  the  reverse,  in  all  particulars,  of  the  indignant  and 
defiant  attitude.  The  other  scattered  allusions  to  the  principle  of  opposites 
are  almost  pure  examples  of  the  opposition  of  pleasure  and  pain. 

On  the  leading  case — the  opposition  of  rage  and  affection  in  the  dog 
and  the  cat — -I  offer  the  following  remarks  : — 

First,  the  contrast  here  is  not  a  simple  contrast  of  opposing  states ; 
it  represents  two  separate  developments,  each  springing  from  its  own 
independent  circumstances,  notwithstanding  that,  when  developed,  there 
is  an  antagonism  betw'een  the  two.  The  simple  contrast,  the  obverse 
implication,  of  a  state  of  aggressive  rage,  is  the  state  of  collapse  and 
dread  under  a  still  more  powerful  aggressor.  Between  the  beater  and 
the  beaten  there  is  an  immediate  and  direct  opposition :  the  mental 
condition  of  the  one  is  the  natural  obverse  of  the  mental  condition  of  the 
other  ;  and  the  physical  attitudes  should  show  a  corresponding  opposi- 
tion. The  mind  of  every  fi<.'hting  animal  has  passed  through  both  phases  ; 
as  with  heat  and  cold,  the  experience  of  both  is  necessary  to  the  expe- 
rience of  each.  If  we  could  suppose  an  animal  that  had  never  known 
fear,  doubt,  inferiority,  the  fact  or  the  notion  of  being  beaten, — such  an 
animal  would  not  have  the  fiilly  developed  consciousness  of  the  condition 
of  rage,  indignant  defiance,  bellicose  passion  ;  its  encounters  with  resisting 
prey  would  be  purely  mechanical,  like  tearing  up  a  root  or  climbing  a  tree. 

So,  then,  the  antithesis  to  be  examined  is  between  angi-y  superiority, 
and  tamed  or  fi-ightened  inferiority  ;  and  this  is  sufliciently  mai-ked  in 
all  the  manifestations.  It  is,  however,  a  pure  example  of  the  antithesis 
of  pleasure  and  pain,  of  elation  and  depression,  qualified  by  the  situation 
of  contest. 

In  the  next  place,  I  must  remark  that  Darwin's  supposition  of  a 
state  of  affection  arising  without  its  physical  concomitants  and  bor- 
rowing or  evoking  these  by  a  conscious  or  unconscious  reversal  of  the 
attitudes  of  anger,  is  at  variance  with  the  very  first  principle  of  the 
relationship  of  mind  and  body  ;  a  principle,  acknowledged  by  himself, 
although  with  hesitation  and  timidity.  The  development  of  angry 
passion  involves  with  it  a  concomitant  physical  state  ;  the  two  must 
come  together — the  mental  cannot  subsist  without  the  bodilv.  This  is 
true  of  Rage  ;  and  it  is  equally  true  of  Affection.  The  affectionate  mood 
cannot  exist  without  an  express  physical  support ;  and,  as  the  capacity 
and  the  intensity  of  affection  advances,  so  do  the  physical  embodiments 
characteristic  of  the  state.  "We  are  not  first  made  affectionate  m  our 
purely  spiritual  half,  and  then  left  to  find  out  a  suitable  expression,  in 
the  best  way  we  can ;  we  cannot  be  affectionate  in  any  degree,  without 
having  at  the  same  time  the  movement,  the  yearnings,  the  glandular 
effusions,  for  manifesting  the  affection.  The  power  of  expressing  oiw 
feelings,  is  merely  an  incident  of  their  indispensable  physical  support. 


664  APPENDIX. 

Because  animals  from  their  fighting  hfe  contracted  angry  passion, 
with  its  accompanying  attitudes,  it  does  not  follow  that  they  should 
contract  the  affectionate  moods ;  indeed,  the  one  must  necessarily  pre- 
clude the  other.  If  they  ever  become  affectionate,  it  is  because,  in 
certain  situations,  they  derive  gratification  from  acts  that  require  them 
to  court,  cherish,  and  uphold  others  of  their  own  kind.  The  necessities 
of  subsistence  make  them  aggressive ;  love  makes  them  fond  and  affec- 
tionate. The  two  interests  are  not  a  mutually-implicated  couple,  they 
are  as  distinct  as  Taste  is  distinct  from  Hearing ;  their  contrast  or  oppo- 
sition is  shown  only  in  their  outgoings  or  consequences. 

To  advert  now  to  shrugging  the  shoulders,  as  an  example  of 
Antithesis.  I  cannot  help  remarking  how  in  Darwin's  own  description 
there  creeps  out  the  opposition  between  aggressive  energy  and  helpless- 
ness,— which  is  merely  an  offshoot  of  the  great  antithesis  of  elating  and 
depressing  passions— of  pleasure  and  pain.  The  indignant  energetic 
man  holds  his  head  erect,  frowns,  closes  his  mouth,  squares  his  shoulders, 
expands  his  chest,  clenches  his  fists,  stiffens  the  muscles  of  his  limbs  : 
the  helpless  apologetic  man  releases  all  these  attitudes  ;  his  only  positive 
exertion  is  the  lifting  of  the  shoulders  (chiefiy  one  shoulder)  and  the 
turning  outwards  of  the  open  hands.  So  far  as  I  can  venture  an  opinion 
upon  the  lifting  of  the  shoulder  to  meet  the  inclining  head,  I  would 
connect  it  with  the  general  crouching  attitude  in  the  helpless  and  defence- 
less ;  the  meaning  of  which  may  be  to  make  one  part  of  the  body  cover 
the  other  parts,  so  as  to  diminish  the  exposed  surface.  Pure  antithesis, 
in  my  view  of  it,  simply  releases  movements,  it  does  not  originate 
counter  movements  ;  these  are  due  to  some  action  of  the  will,  direct  or 
indirect,  to  suit  a  purpose. 

From  this  review  of  Darwin's  two  principles— namely.  Direct  action 
of  the  Nervous  System,  and  Antithesis — it  appears  that  he  has.  without 
explicit  avowal,  assumed  the  operation  of  the  law  that  connects  Pleasure 
with  physical  elation,  Pain  with  physical  depression.  I  hold  that  this 
law,  if  true,  should  appear  at  the  very  front  of  every  theory  of  emotional 
expression  ;  and  that  it  is  true  (with  suitable  qualifications)  I  believe 
there  is  abundant  evidence. 

Indeed,  if  this  principle  is  not  true,  there  is  no  consistent  relationship 
between  mind  and  body.  Pleasure  and  Pam  are  opposite  states,  as  much 
as  plus  and  minus,  hot  and  cold,  wet  and  dry ;  the  one  negatives  the 
otlier.  Any  person  reflecting  on  these  two  facts — namely,  that  pleasxire 
and  pain  neutralize  each  other,  and  that  they  move  the  will  in  opposite 
ways — must  admit  their  total  contrariety.  Now,  if  there  be  any 
harmonious  principle  in  the  union  of  the  mental  and  the  physical,  con- 
trary mental  states  should  correspond  to  contrary  physical  states.  For 
contraries,  we  need  only  one  explanation.  Whatever  be  the  physical 
condition  corresponding  to  a  state  of  pleasure,  an  opposite  condition 
should  correspond  to  pain.  If  pleasure  is  concomitant  with  the  elation 
or  invigoration  of  some  vital  process,  pain  should  concur  with  depression 


DARWIN    ON    EXPRESSION.  '665 

or  enfeeblement.  Or,  further,  according  to  the  supplementary  law  of 
Stinmlation,  pleasure  is  the  expending  of  nervous  power  from  a  full 
stock,  pain  is  either  no  expenditure  at  all  when  there  is  abundance 
(ennui)  or  expenditure  beyond  the  proper  limits.  It  may  be  that  pleasure 
consists  in  a  certain  manner  of  expenditure  (not  too  sudden  or  violent)  ; 
pain  v/ill  then  consist  in  the  opposite  manner:  we  do  not  at  present 
know  what  is  the  precise  ditierence  between  a  sweet  and  bitter  taste, 
whereby  under  the  same  ner\ous  condition,  the  shock  of  one  is  pleasant 
in  all  degrees,  the  shock  of  the  other  painful  in  all  degrees. 

If  we  were  dealing  with  neutral  stimulants,  those  that  merely  rouse 
up  consciousness,  without  either  pleasure  or  pain,  the  law  of  Direct 
action  (Diffusion)  would  be  enough.  But  neutral  stimulants  of  any 
considerable  degree  of  intensity  are  not  frequent  ;  with  the  neutral 
excitement  there  is  usually  either  pleasure  or  pain.  Hence,  we  can  never 
lose  sight  of  the  need  of  qualifying  direct  nervous  action  by  that  law  ; 
pleasure  as  such  elevating  the  physical  tone,  pain  as  such  depressing  it. 

To  show  the  various  cautions  that  are  needed  in  following  out  the 
Law  of  Direct  Action,  which  Darwin  (as  well  as  Herbert  Spencer),  in  my 
opinion,  regards  too  exclusively,  I  will  select  a  few  typical  cases,  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  such  as  we  are  all  familiar  with. 

1.  A  slight  shock  of  acute  pleasure— a  pleasant  relish  or  taste,  a 
sweet  perfume,  a  melodiovis  note,  or  the  opening  vip  of  the  clouds  to  a 
sunny  ray.  The  physical  outburst  corresponding  to  one  of  these  mental 
stimulants  is  cheerful,  animated,  enlivening,  in  but  a  slight  degree.  To 
a  young,  vigorous,  or  demonstrative  person,  even  a  small  pleasure  will 
lead  to  a  certain  impetuosity  of  display ;  which  will  be  the  more  apparent 
that  there  is  no  pre-engagement  of  body  or  mind.  To  a  quiet  or  feeble 
subject,  the  exhilaration  will  be  more  inward,  or  in  the  How  and  direction 
of  the  thoughts  ;  which  is  still  an  evidence  of  power  evoked.  Perhaps, 
the  pleasure  may  fall  on  a  mind  already'  depressed ;  in  which  case,  the 
effect  will  be  lost  in  slightly  abating  the  dejection. 

2.  A  pleasure  of  greater  magnitude  and  persistency — a  decided 
accession  of  some  acute  pleasurable  stimulation  :  such  as  a  stirring  piece 
of  music,  a  noble  prospect,  an  agreeable  companion.  All  the  language 
used  for  the  first  case  can  be  applied  here  heightened  for  degree.  The 
demonstrations  will  be  metre  powerful  and  persistent.  In  case  of  previous 
gloom,  there  nia^^  be  power  enough  to  restore  the  mean  state,  with  or 
without  surplus.  The  vigorous  and  robust  will  piit  forth  outward 
manifestations  ;  the  less  demonstrative  will  take  on  a  cheerful  cast  of 
thought. 

3.  An  occasion  of  multiplied  and  concurring  pleasurable  impressions 
— a  great  feast,  with  dainties,  music,  and  company  ;  a  joyful  celebration. 
Under  this,  every  one  is  roused  into  active  displays  of  elated  emotion  ; 
the  quietest  temperaments  have  that  inward  thrill  that  bespeaks  force 
profusely,  and  yet  not  exhaustingly,  awakened. 

4.  Elation  of  tone  gradually  acquired  and  unaccompanied  witli  acute 


666  APPENDIX. 

shocks  or  sensations — mere  health,  replenishment  with  food,  stimulants, 
successes,  bright  hopes.  Here,  there  may  be  no  violent  demonstrations  ; 
only  a  gentle  activity,  an  erect  attitude,  a  disposition  to  converse,  to  love 
and  to  be  loved,  a  readiness  for  exertion,  as  if  under  a  refreshing  stimulus. 

This  last  case  opens  up  one  aspect  of  voluminous  or  massive  pleasm-e 
— namely,  its  being  serene,  soothing,  quieting— as  opposed  to  the  rousing 
or  stimulating  pleasures,  which  are  mostly  acute.  The  physical  side  of 
such  states  may  seem  to  be  an  exception  to  the  law  ;  as  there  is  a  lower- 
ing instead  of  a  quickening  energy.  Thus  muscular  repose  and  sleepi- 
ness, if  yielded  to,  are  massive  pleasures  ;  yet  they  are  accompanied  with 
decline  of  energy.  There  is,  however,  no  real  contradiction.  It  is  the 
very  nature  of  the  state  to  grow  out  of  a  muscular  lull ;  this  is  its  basis. 
So  far  as  compatible  with  that  essential  condition,  the  pleasure  is  accom- 
panied with  its  quota  of  enlivening  accompaniments  ;  the  reposing 
labom'er  has  a  remnant  of  force  enoiigh  for  a  cheerful  demeanour. 

Now  for  Pains  : — 

1.  A  slight  smart,  an  acute  shock — the  stroke  of  a  whip,  a  bitter 
taste,  a  sudden  mal-odour,  a  screeching  noise,  a  glare,  a  small  disappoint- 
ment or  failure.  The  shock  being  sudden,  and  the  system  vigorous,  this 
is  the  occasion  for  the  lively  demonstration  that  ssems  most  at  vari- 
ance with  the  law  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.  The  individual  is  wakened  up 
to  a  very  active  display  ;  he  starts  from  head  to  foot,  falls  into  a  brisk 
walk,  gesticulates,  and  seems  prepared  for  great  deeds. 

2.  Let  the  shock  be  much  greater — a  more  serious  blow,  but  still 
acute  ;  and  let  the  subject  possess  great  physical  vigour  at  the  moment. 
There  will  still  be  a  lively  and  energetic  outburst,  and  the  appearance  as 
if  the  greater  intensity  of  the  shock  made  a  proportional  intensity  of  the 
diffused  manifestations.  This  is  only,  however,  on  the  supposition  of  a 
fund  of  vigour  in  the  individual.  Let  the  case  be  a  weak  or  exhausted 
subject,  and  this  second  degree  of  stinmlation  is  the  reverse  of  invigorat- 
ing, even  in  appearance  ;  it  induces  prostration,  loss  of  strength,  quies- 
cence under  a  pain  still  rankling. 

3.  Suppose,  next,  an  accumulation  of  painful  shocks  at  many  points — 
a  shower  of  missiles,  a  stroke  with  the  cat-o'-nine-tails.  It  is  only  for  a 
moment,  and  in  a  robust  subject,  that  this  more  terrific  infliction  can  be 
followed  by  active  manifestations.  According  to  the  uncorrected  law  of 
Direct  Action,  it  ought  to  inspire  a  giant's  fui^y  ;  in  point  of  fact,  it  is 
simply  overwhelming,  crushing,  utterly  prostrating.  The  delusive  ap- 
pearance of  strength,  under  a  moderate  smart,  is  no  longer  seen,  even  to 
a  trifling  degree.  Very  strong  men,  at  the  halberds,  keep  up  energetic 
gesticulations  for  a  short  time  ;  but,  although  these  are  supposed  to 
mitigate  the  agony  by  diverting  the  nervous  force,  they  soon  die  away. 

4.  Keeping  still  the  obverse  parallel  of  the  instances  of  Pleasiire,  I 
take  now  the  case  of  general  mental  depression,  withoiit  acute  inflictions  : 
as  cold,  hunger,  fatigue,  danger,  defeat,  mortification,  remorse,  despair. 
The  physical  side  here  is  weakness,  depressing  enervation,  without  any 


DARWIN    ON    EXPRESSION.  667 

redeeming  circumstance,  or  the  pretence  of  activity.  Some  special  in- 
spiration is  requisite  to  waken  up  the  powers  under  massive  depression 
and  gloom.  Our  general  law  is  seen  without  any  distorting  or  misleading 
appearances. 

5.  A  very  special  and  highly  ilhistrative  case  is  the  irritation  of  a  sore, 
or  a  '  raw ' ;  than  which  nothing  is  more  destructive  of  vital  energy.  The 
tearing  open  of  a  womid,  or  a  protracted  sm'gical  operation,  induces 
fainting  and  sickness — the  culminating  term  of  the  debilitated  nervous 
centres.  Something  of  the  same  prostration  follows  a  blow  on  the  more 
sensitive  organs — the  eye,  the  nose,  the  ear,  the  stomach,  the  testicle  in 
men,  the  breasts  in  women. 

The  properly  Emotional  expression,  or  manifestation  of  the  Feelings, 
is  constantly  mingled  with  pure  and  proper  volition  ;  and  especially  is 
this  the  case  with  Pain.  The  action  of  the  Will  is  loudly  demanded  in 
acute  agony,  first  to  procure  relief,  and,  failing  that,  to  deaden  the  feeling 
by  a  diversion  of  nerve  force  to  the  muscles.  Hence,  there  is  probability 
in  Darwm's  view,  that  the  expression  of  acute  pain  is,  in  its  origin,  voli- 
tional, or  stimulated  with  a  view  to  rehef.  The  energetic  gesticulation 
that  follows  immediately  on  pain,  not  too  severe,  or  in  strong  subjects, 
may  be  an  inherited  tendency,  beginning  in  the  ordinary  coiu-se  of  the 
Will,— namely,  to  seek  relief  from  pain  by  efforts  proportional  to  its 
violence.  It  is  in  Will,  or  volition,  that  the  proportionality  of  action  to 
stimulus  may  (with  certain  allowances)  be  fairly  attested. 


Before  proceeding  to  Darwin's  first  and  greatest  law,  the  princiiale 
that  is  his  crown  of  glory  as  a  theorizer,  I  will  make  a  passing  allusion  to 
two  minor  circumstances,  partially  adverted  to  by  him,  which  enter  into 
the  explanation  of  our  movements  of  expression. 

Tlie  first  is  the  sinaultaneous  or  consentaneous  action  of  the  muscles, 
described  in  the  present  volume  (p.  288)  as  the  law  of  Harmony  of  State 
of  the  muscular  system.  Yawiiing  is  quoted  by  Darwin  as  a  good 
example.  Again,  in  scratching  a  part  that  itches  intolerably,  there  is  a 
forcible  closure  of  the  eyelids  ;  which  may  come  under  that  general 
action  by  which  almost  all  the  muscles  of  the  body  are  made  rigid  at  the 
same  time. 

The  second  circumstance,  which  a  gi'eat  deal  might  be  made  of,  is  the 
Limitation  and  Diversion  of  energy.  The  dropping  of  the  jaw,  in 
astonishment,  is  attributed  to  the  great  draft  of  nervous  energy  in 
supporting  the  active  strain  peculiar  to  the  state  ;  there  is  a  relaxation 
of  many  of  the  muscles,  the  mouth  opens,  and  the  jaw  drops  of  its 
weight  (p.  284).  The  vacant  expression  of  the  eyes,  in  a  mood  of  intense 
abstraction  or  meditation,  is  caused  by  the  relaxation  of  the  muscles  that 
converge  the  eyes  (p.  229).  A  very  large  number  of  situations  might  be 
pointed  out,  wherein  the  characteristic  display  is  due  to  the  loss  of  energy 
at  one  point  through  its  absorption  at  another  ;  as  stopping  suddenly  in 


668  APPENDIX. 

a  walk,   when  a  thought  strikes  us,  or  when  about  to   say  something 
emphatic  to  a  companion. 

It  is  under  the  '  Principle  of  Serviceable  Associated  Habits '  that 
Darwin  brings  to  bear  upon  the  problem  of  the  origin  of  Expression,  his 
doctrine  of  the  Inheritance  of  acquired  powers.  He  supposes  tlie  will  to 
be  a  more  primitive  fact  than  Emotional  Expression,  'at  least  in  the 
various  specific  modes  and  peculiarities  ;  for  expression,  according  to  the 
law  of  Direct  Action,  would  be  coeval  with  the  sentient  organization. 
The  first  examples  of  the  principle  are  taken  from  the  lower  animals. 
Dogs,  before  going  to  sleep  on  a  hard  floor,  turn  round  and  round  and 
scratcli  the  floor  with  their  fore-paws,  as  if  to  trample  grass  and  scoop 
out  a  hollow.  Many  carnivorous  animals,  as  they  approach  their  prey, 
lower  their  heads  and  crouch  :  the  meaning  is  partly  to  hide  themselves, 
partly  to  prepare  for  a  rush  ;  they  do  this  when  there  is  no  real  occasion. 
Dogs  are  well  known  to  go  through  the  form  of  covering  their  excrement, 
in  circumstances  wholly  irrelevant ;  a  purposeless  remnant  of  some 
ancient  utility.  Kittens,  puppies,  and  other  yoimg  animals  have  been 
accustomed  to  push,  with  their  fore  feet,  then-  mothers'  breasts,  to  make 
the  milk  flow  ;  they  do  the  same  against  a  warm  soft  obstacle.  A  horse, 
eager  to  start  on  a  journey,  paces  the  ground ;  he  adopts  the  same  move- 
ment when  about  to  be  fed,  and  impatient  for  his  corn. 

It  is,  perhaps,  in  discussing  the  special  Emotions,  that  Darwin 
obtains  the  most  illustrative  cases  of  inherited  expression :  the  best  are 
Anger  and  Fear.  The  gestures  of  Anger  are  the  inherited  attitudes  of  a 
combatant  or  aggressor  ;  the  sneer  or  snarl,  which  sometimes  uncovers 
the  canine  teeth,  reveals  our  animal  descent.  The  expression  of  Fear  is 
connected  with  the  violent  movements  for  escaping  danger. 

I  shall,  however,  proceed  at  once  to  his  mode  of  accounting  for  the 
anomaly  of  the  pained  expression  in  the  human  face  -the  energy  ]:)ut 
forth  in  frowning,  and  in  curving  the  mouth  by  the  depressor  of  the  angle. 
This  was  the  difficulty  that  neither  Sir  Charles  Bell  nor  Miiller  could 
explain  ;  and  it  is  in  plain  contradiction  to  the  law  of  pleasure  and  pain. 
The  only  suggestion  that  I  have  been  able  to  otier  is  that  a  certain 
amount  of  contraction  of  the  smaller  muscles  would  more  effectually 
relax  the  greater,  as  in  crouching  when  the  body  is  already  disposed  to 
collapse.  If  we  are  in  a  depressed  condition,  the  renunciation  of  muscu- 
lar expenditure  leaves  a  larger  share  of  blood  to  the  viscera  and  the 
veins,  and  contributes  to  ameliorate  the  tone  of  mind,  which  is  more 
dependent  on  these  organs,  than  on  muscular  exertion.  Now  if  the 
relaxed  muscles  were  large,  and  the  relaxing  muscles  small  and  lightly 
moved,  I  think  there  would  be  some  gain  by  the  positive  expenditure ; 
and  this  would  be  one  way  out  of  the  contradiction  of  supposing  that  to 
Pleasure  and  to  Pain  there  is  equally  attached  the  manifestation  of 
physical  energy.  I  have  been  disposed  to  think  that  this  explanation 
would  suflice  as  regards  the  forced  collapse  of  the  whole  body  ;  I  have 


DARWIN    ON   EXPRESSION.  669 

never  been  quite  satisfied  of  its  sufficiency  for  tlie  face.  In  the  face,  the 
relaxed  muscles  are  apparently  too  small,  and  the  counteracting  efforts 
too  great  to  yield  the  required  release  of  power  on  the  whole. 

I  will  now,  therefore,  review  Darwin's  explanation.  And  first  as  to 
the  act  of  Frowning  ;  performed  by  the  contraction  of  the  small  muscle 
between  the  eyebrows,  opposing  the  large  muscle  of  the  scalp  (occipito-  . 
frontalis).  The  frown  is  primarily,  and  generically,  an  expression  of 
pain ;  all  its  derivative  applications — in  anger,  displeasure,  eager  pursuit 
and  determination,  perplexity,  deliberation  and  meditation  —are  easily 
traceable  to  this  origin.  Darwin  has  two  modes  of  accounting  for  the 
frown.  One,  given  also  by  Spencer,  is  the  habit  of  shading  the  eyes  from 
the  sun,  during  very  intent  and  anxious  vision,  as  in  scanning  the  horizon 
for  an  approaching  enemy.  Spencer  puts  stress  specially  upon  the  situa- 
tion of  a  combat :  we  know  that  boxers  toss  for  the  sun  ;  and  the  com- 
batant that  has  the  sun  in  his  eyes  is  at  a  great  disadvantage — his  only 
resource  being  to  draw  down  the  eyebrows  and  eyelids  as  a  shade.  We 
may,  however,  give  ourselves  the  benefit  of  the  wider  range  of  situations 
quoted  by  Darwin  ;  extending  our  reference  to  all  critical  occasions  what- 
soever, where  an  animal  might  be  incommoded  by  too  much  glare. 

The  other  explanation  given  by  Darwin  is  to  assign  a  train  or  series 
of  connected  steps  in  the  expression  of  the  face,  accounting  for  the  entire 
circle  of  characteristics  under  pain,  namely,  shedding  tears,  frowning  and 
curving  the  mouth  downwards.  He  starts  with  the  act  of  screaming,  as 
arising  under  pain.  The  exertion  of  the  voice  in  pain  is,  he  saj'S,  origin- 
ally voluntary,  ■with  a  view  to  obtaining  assistance  ;  and  is  energetic, 
according  to  the  necessities  of  the  case.  By  inheritance,  this  grows 
to  be  an  expression  of  pain  under  all  circumstances  ;  it  ceases  to  be 
consciously  voluntary,  and  becomes  a  properly  emotional  expression. 

The  exertion  of  screaming  being  thus  assumed,  a  number  of  con- 
sequences arise,  Darwin  thinks,  by  physiological  cause  and  effect. 
Violent  screaming  leads  to  the  gorging  of  the  eyes  with  blood :  this 
is  a  painful  effort,  and  the  will  is  roused  to  various  protective  or 
ameliorating  actions.  Thus,  the  eyeballs  are  compressed,  and  the  con- 
gestion stemmed,  by  the  united  tension  of  the  orbicular,  corrugator,  and 
pyramidal  muscles  ;  all  whicli  we  know,  in  point  of  fact,  to  be  exerted 
during  a  fit  of  crying  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  the  lachrymal  glands, 
under  the  like  compression,  give  forth  a  stream  of  tears.  In  this  group 
of  effects,  Darwin  traces  out  (1)  frowning,  (2)  the  expression  of  grief  in 
the  obliquity  of  the  eyebrows,  (3)  the  lifting  of  the  upper  lip,  and  (4)  the 
depression  of  the  angle  of  the  uiouth.  '  When  infants  scream  they  firmly 
contract  the  muscles  round  their  eyes,  and  this  draws  up  the  upper  lip  ; 
and  as  they  have  to  keep  their  mouths  widely  open,  the  depressor 
muscles  running  to  the  corners  are  likewise  brought  into  strong  action. 
This  generally,  but  not  invariably,  causes  a  slight  angular  bend  in  the 
lower  lip,  on  both  sides,  near  the  corners  of  the  mouth.  The  mouth  thus 
assumes  a  squarish  outline.     The  contraction  of  the  depressor  nmscle  is 


670  .  APPENDIX. 

best  seen  in  infants  when  not  screaming  violently,  aiid  especially  just 
before  they  begin,  or  when  they  cease  to  scream  '  (194). 

Such  is  the  explanation,  iterated  in  various  forms  by  Darwin,  of  the 
greatest  difficulty  attending  emotional  expression.  It  hinges  on  two 
assumptions.  Tlie  one  is  that  screaming  in  pain  has  arisen  from  a 
vohmtary  beginning,  namely,  tlie  calling  for  assistance.  The  primitive 
outburst  of  the  voice  woiild  be  either  from  spontaneity  or  in  the  effusion 
of  delight,  or  both  together  ;  to  '  shout  for  joy  '  is  the  natural  result  of 
the  primary  tendencies  of  our  being.  To  shout  under  pam  is  exceptional 
and  secondaiy,  and  supposes  a  sense  of  some  end  to  be  gained  ;  the 
habitual  employment  of  the  scream  for  this  end  transfers  it  from  a 
voluntary  to  a  purposeless  act,  or  an  emotional  expression,  purely  and 
properly  so  called. 

The  other  assumption  is  that  with  the  violent  exertion  of  the 
muscles  of  the  lar3-nx  and  chest,  there  is  a  congestion  of  blood  in  the 
adjoining  parts,  namely,  the  features  and  the  eyes.  In  the  eyes  the 
gorging  is  especially  distressing,  and  would,  by  the  law  of  the  will,  induce 
movements  of  counteraction  ;  these  being  such  as  compress  the  eyeball. 
The  actions  suited  to  tlie  etlect  comprise  the  whole  circle  of  moveiuents 
of  the  features  under  a  fit  of  crying  ;  and  in  the  milder  states  of  pain 
there  would  be  a  smaller  exertion  of  the  same  parts.  For  example,  the 
brow  is  corrugated  and  the  angle  of  the  mouth  depressed,  without  either 
screaming  or  tears. 

The  hypothesis  is  bold  and  origmal,  and  has  the  appearance  of  being 
adequate  to  the  facts  (the  most  doubtful  point,  perhaps,  is  the  extension 
of  the  supposed  influence  to  the  depression  of  tlie  angle  of  the  mouth). 
The  author,  in  addition  to  his  own  observations,  adduces  the  authority  of 
oculists  and  others,  to  confirm  his  view  of  the  supposed  sequence  of 
cause  and  effect.  There  underlies,  of  course,  the  wider  hypothesis  of 
Inheritance  of  acquired  modifications,  granting  which  we  may  readily 
allow  that  the  explanation  is  feasible  and  probable.  A  more  critical  and 
advanced  physiology  may  find  flaws,  and  perhaps  also  make  good  defec- 
tive links  ;  while,  at  the  present  moment,  any  one  rejecting  the  hypothesis 
will  have  some  difiiculty  in  supplying  its  place  with  one  stiU  more  adapted 
to  the  problem  to  be  solved. 

Darwin's  theory  of  Blushing  is  one  of  the  happiest  suggestions 
in  the  book.  He  carefully  surveys  the  facts ;  ascertains  when  children 
begin  to  blush,  what  are  the  exact  limits  of  blushing  in  the  bod3',  and 
how  far  the  different  races  of  mankind  are  liable  to  blush.  He  describes 
the  movements  and  gestures  of  the  body  that  accompany  blushing  ;  and 
remarks  that  the  state  is  usually  attended  with  some  degree  of  mental 
confusion.  He  inquh-es  into  the  antecedent  mental  states  and  emotions, 
and  enumerates  as  the  chief,  shyness,  shame,  and  modesty ;  the  essential 
element  in  all  being  self-attention,  more  especially  as  directed  to  ■personal 
appearance,  and  above  all  to  the  face.     To  explain  the  origin  of  the  effect, 


DARWIN    ON    EXPRESSION.  671 

he  refers  to  a  physiological  principle  which  has  of  late  years  been 
bronizht  into  view  by  various  observers,— that  attention  closely  directed 
to  any  part  of  the  body  tends  to  interfere  with  the  ordinary  and  tonic 
contraction  of  the  small  arteries  of  that  part ;  so  that  the  capillaries,  in 
consequence,  become  enlarged  and  congested  with  blood. 

In  order  to  establish  his  theory,  he  recites  a  number  of  the  facts 
illustrating  the  debilitating  effects  of  intense  self-consciousness  of  the 
bodily  processes  ;  but  I  am  disposed  to  think  that  the  examples  adduced 
do  not  all  belong  to  one  law. 

I  have  discussed  at  length  (p.  355)  the  process  of  acting  out  an  idea, 
or  the  tendency  of  ideas,  in  so  far  as  allowed,  to  become  full  realities ; 
as  when  the  idea  of  some  crime  that  has  been  perpetrated  operates  upon 
weak  minds  to  make  them  repeat  it.  This  principle  embraces  the 
influence  of  ideas  on  mesmerized  patients ;  it  also  embraces  the  pro- 
duction of  the  phj'sical  accompaniment  of  a  sensation,  by  means  of  the 
ideas  strongly  suggested  to  the  mind ;  as  salivation  at  the  sight  of  food. 

The  consequences  of  the  principle  are  sometimes  beneficial  or  agree- 
able, sometimes  disagreeable,  according  to  the  circumstances.  The  idea 
of  something  pleasmg,  as  a  feast,  is  itself  pleasing  or  exhilarating  ;  the 
actualizing  of  agreeable  ideas  is  agreeable,  and  obversely. 

The  problem  of  blushing,  however,  requires  a  painful  agency  ;  and,  if 
it  comes  imder  the  foregoing  law,  it  comes  imder  its  painful  aspect.  But 
a  prior  question  occurs,  Is  the  tendency  to  raise  an  idea  into  actuality, 
the  same  as  the  tendency  of  self-attention  to  debilitate  the  parts  attended 
to  ■?  Let  us  examine  this  case  by  itself.  I  have  adverted,  in  an  Appendix 
Note  (E),  to  the  contrast  between  Objective  and  Subjective  regards  ; 
the  one  being  invigorating  and  stimulating,  the  other  relaxing  or  de- 
pressing. Of  this,  as  a  general  fact,  there  can  be  no  doubt ;  although  no 
explanation  has  as  yet  been  given  of  it,  the  fact  itself  has  been  accredited 
bv  general  observation.  Sir  Henry  Holland  and  other  physicians  have 
remarked  that  attending  to  the  sensations  of  digestion  impairs  its  power 
for  the  time ;  that  the  process  goes  on  better  if  the  attention  is  whoUy 
withdrawn  from  it.  Darwin  quotes  a  patient  of  his  father's  who,  when 
he  felt  his  own  pulse,  found  it  nregular  :  when  felt  by  the  physician,  it 
was  perfectly  regular.  In  these  cases,  however,  we  can  hardly  say  that 
there  is  the  carrying  out  of  an  idea  uito  actuality'.  There  maj^  be 
instances,  where  a  patient  has  a  preconceived  idea  about  himself — that 
his  heart  is  diseased,  or  that  his  digestion  is  bad — and  by  dwelling  on  the 
idea,  may  induce  somethmg  of  the  reality.  Still  that  is  not  the  same  as 
salivating  at  the  sight  of  food.  It  would  be  paralleled  by  salivating  from 
thmking  of  the  glands  or  the  sahva.  The  essential  point  is  not  the 
having  an  idea,  and  working  it  out  in  its  proper  character,  but  the  con- 
centrating of  attention  on  some  part  of  our  own  body  or  of  the  mind. 
To  be  thmking  of  self  is  the  main  fact  ;  and  the  general  consequence  is 
some  debility  or  derangement  in  the  functions  of  the  part ;  there  is 
relaxation  of  the  vaso-motor  stimulus  of  the  vessels,  with  local  conges- 


672  APPENDIX. 

tion,  which  amounts  to  functional  weakness,  if  not  disease.  Among  the 
records  of  Medicine  and  Pathology,  more  special  consequences'  are 
assigned ;  but  this  is  the  general  result.  Sometimes,  although  not 
often,  a  healthy  action  has  been  attributed  to  the  self -reflecting  opera- 
tion ;  as  when  the  catamenial  flow  has  been  stimulated  by  thinking  intently 
on  the  operation  ;  and  in  the  influence  of  imaginary  physic.  From  such 
instances  medical  men  have  supposed  that  a  curative  power  may  be 
found  to  be  wrapped  up  in  tlie  influence  of  the  imagination  ;  but  the 
cases  that  favour  this  supposition  turn  chiefly  upon  a  principle  dift'erent 
from  either  of  the  two  now  in  discussion,  namely,  the  power  of  hope, 
belief,  or  sanguine  anticipation — a  state  favourable  to  healthy  action,  on 
the  law  of  Pleasure  and  Pain. 

I  apprehend,  therefore,  that  Darwin's  explanation  of  blushing  rests 
upon  the  debilitating  effect  of  self-consciousnens.  This  effect  can  be  to  some 
extent  localized  ;  attending  strongly  to  the  stomach,  al!'ects  digestion  ; 
attending  to  the  heart's  action,  disturbs  the  pulse.  The  localizing  opera- 
tion has  something  to  do  with  our  ideas,  but  not  with  the  a^ctualizing  of 
an  idea.  As  pain  and  derangement  are  the  occasions  of  our  most  earnest 
attention  to  our  bodily  organs,  the  act  of  attending  to  them  may  possibly 
induce  an  unhealthy  state  of  the  circulation.  So  it  is,  however,  that 
when  we  are  in  our  best  condition  of  bodily  and  mental  vigour,  our 
regards  are  objective  or  outward. 

Granting  then  the  principle  of  self-consciousness  as  affecting  the  vaso- 
motor system,  how  does  it  apply  to  blushing  ?  Thus :  When  we  are 
^  ery  much  stared  at  by  others,  we  are  led  by  imitation  and  by  solicitude 
to  think  of  our  face  :  the  moment  we  think  of  it,  we  feel  it  growing 
warmer  ;  this  is  the  weak  form  of  blushing—  the  lower  degree  of  conges- 
tion, blushing  being  the  higher.  In  some  individuals,  the  congestion 
readilj"  issumes  the  higher  degree  seen  in  reddening,  or  of  the  blush 
proper.  The  area  of  the  blush  corresponds  to  the  parts  of  the  body 
usually  exposed  to  the  public  gaze. 


C. — Seat  of  revived  impressio?i>i. — p.  364. 

The  following  additional  illustration,  regarding  the  physical 
seat  of  revived  impressions,  is  given  by  Wundt.  '  If  we  look 
long  at  green  light,  a  white  surface,  when  we  turn  to  it,  appears 
red ;  if  we  look  long  at  red  light,  the  white  surface  appears  green. 
Thus,  every  picture  of  an  external  object  leaves  behind  it  an 
after-picture,  which  has  the  same  outline  as  the  original  picture, 
but  is  seen  of  the  complementary  colour  of  the  original.  Now,  a 
picture  of  the  fancy  leaves,  though  generally  much  less  intensely, 
an  after-picture  too.  If,  with  the  eye  closed,  a  picture  of  very 
lively  colour  is  for  a  long  time  steadily  held  fixed  before  the  fancy. 


SEAT   OF   EEVIVED    IMPRESSIONS.  673 

and  the  eye  be  then  suddenly  opened  and  turned  upon  a  white 
surface,  the  picture  of  tlie  fancy  is  seen  upon  the  white  ground 
for  a  short  time  of  a  colour  the  complement  of  the  original.  This 
can  take  place,  only  because  the  eye  has  been  wearied  by  the 
sameness  of  the  colour  of  the  picture  of  the  fancy,  and  needs  to 
seek  relief  in  its  complement,  just  as  it  would  do  with  a  real 
coloured  object  before  it.  The  experiment  proves  that  the 
nervous  process  in  both  cases  is  identical.'  Kant,  also,  in  one  of 
his  minor  works,  wishing  to  oppose  the  opinion  that  the  soul  or 
thinking  principle  resides  only  in  the  brain,  and  in  one  part  of  it, 
meets  the  argument  adduced  from  the  feeling  we  have  in  the 
head  in  hard  thinking,  as  follows : — '  What  causes  the  thinking 
soul  to  be  felt  chiefly  in  the  brain,  is  perhaps  this.  All  thought 
requires  the  mediation  of  si(/ns,  which  may  support  the  ideas  to 
be  aroused  and  give  the  necessary  degree  of  clearness.  Such 
companion  signs  for  ou.r  ideas  are  for  the  most  part  obtained 
through  hearing  and  sight,  both  which  senses  are  set  in  action  by 
the  impressions  in  the  brain,  since  their  organs  lie  nearest  to  it. 
If,  now,  the  rousing  of  these  signs,  called  by  Descartes  idere 
inafpridles,  be  properly  a  stimulation  of  the  nerves  to  an  activity 
resembling  that  which  formerly  brought  about  the  sensation,  the 
tissue  of  the  brain  in  the  act  of  thinking  will  fall  to  be  affected  in 
harmony  with  former  impressions,  and  thereby  become  exhausted.' 
Here,  we  have  a  partial  recognition  of  the  theory  contended  for 
in  the  text. 

Sir  W.  Hamilton  maintains  substantially  the  same  view  in 
the  following  passages  :— '  I  shall  terminate  the  consideration  of 
Imagination  proper  by  a  speculation  concerning  the  organ  which 
it  employs  in  the  representation  of  sensible  objects '.  '  But  ex- 
perience equally  proves  that  the  intercranial  portion  of  any 
external  organ  of  sense  cannot  be  destroyed,  without  a  certain 
partial  abolition  of  the  Imagination  proper.  For  example,  there 
are  many  cases  recorded  by  medical  observers  of  persons  losing 
their  sight,  who  have  also  lost  the  faculty  of  representing  the 
images  of  visible  objects.  They  no  longer  call  up  such  objects 
by  reminiscence,  they  no  longer  dream  of  them.  Now,  in  these 
cases  it  is  found  that  not  merely  the  external  instrument  of  sight 
— the  eye — has  been  disorganized,  but  that  the  disorganization 
has  extended  to  those  parts  of  the  brain  which  constitute  the 
internal  instrument  of  this  sense,  that  is,  the  optic  nerves  and 
thalami.     If  the  latter,  the  real  origin  of  vision,  remain  sound, 

43 


674  APPENDIX. 

the  eye  alone  being  destroyed,  the  imagination  of  colours  and 
forms  remains  as  vigorous  as  when  vision  was  entire.'  'But  not 
only  sensible  perceptions,  voluntary  motions  likewise  are  imitated 
in  and  by  the  imagination.  I  can,  in  imagination,  represent  the 
action  of  speech,  the  play  of  the  muscles  of  the  countenance,  the 
movement  of  the  limbs  ;  and,  when  I  do  this,  I  feel  clearly  that 
I  awaken  a  kind  of  tension  m  the  same  nerves  through  which^  by 
an  act  of  will,  I  can  determine  an  overt  and  voluntary  motion  of 
the  muscles ;  nay,  when  the  play  of  imagination  is  very  lively, 
this  external  movement  is  actually  determined '  [Metaphysics, 
h.  169,  274). 

I  quote  further  a  few  sentences  from  Mr.  Spencer's  theory  of 
Memory.  '  To  remember  the  colour  red,  is  to  have,  in  a  weak 
degree,  that  psychical  state  which  the  presentation  of  the  colour 
red  produces ;  to  remember  a  motion  just  made  by  the  arm,  is  to 
feel  a  repetition,  in  a  faint  form,  of  those  internal  states  which 
accompanied  the  motion — is  an  incipient  excitement  of  all  those 
nerves  whose  stronger  excitement  was  experienced  during  the 
motion  '  [Psychology ,  p.  359). 

Deeper  physical  accomj)animents  of  thowjht. — It  is  obviously 
incompetent  to  follow  further  into  the  recesses  of  the  brain  the 
physical  accompaniments  of  our  ideas  or  thinking.  A  certain 
number  of  plausible  conjectures  may  be  made  respecting  the 
cerebral  conditions  of  our  mental  workings — conditions  not  with- 
out important  practical  applications.  We  can  compare  the 
sensation  and  the  idea  as  regards  physical  cost,  or  the  nerve 
exhaustion  attending  them. 

First.  Inferiority  of  the  Idea  to  the  Sensation,  mentally  and 
physically.  As  a  general  fact,  this  inferiority  is  patent  and  un- 
mistakable. It  is  first  seen  on  the  mental  side  :  there  being 
a  presumption  from  general  laws  of  a  corresponding  inferiority 
in  the  physical  adjuncts.  Thus  it  happens,  that  the  conditions 
and  limitations  of  the  deterioration  in  the  idea,  as  compared  with 
the  actual,  can  be  occasionally  stated  in  physical  terms  as  well 
as  in  mental,  and  often  not  without  advantage. 

It  is  a  familiar  consequence  of  repetition,  aided  by  favouring 
circumstances,  to  make  the  Idea  more  and  more  on  a  par  with 
the  Sensation.  It  can  hardly  ever  be  entirely  so,  under  normal 
or  average  conditions  ;  the  nearest  approach  being  familiarity 
under  special  susceptibility  of  sense,  backed  by  extraordinary 
cerebral  endowment.     The  cases  of  equality  of  the  two  stages  are 


DEEPEE   PHYSICAL   ACCOMPANIMENTS    OF   THOUGHT.     075 

usually  abnormal,  and  have  to  be  accounted  for  by  pronounced 
physical  manifestations,  namely,  excessive  nervous  excitement, 
amounting  almost  to  disease.  In  short,  while  the  nervous  cost  of 
a  sensation  is,  so  to  speak,  trifling,  the  nervous  cost  of  an  idea 
having  all  the  vivacity  of  sensation  is  very  high  ;  it  may  be  either 
unusual  frequency  of  repetition  in  the  past  or  momentary  excite- 
ment in  the  present. 

The  ordinary  situation,  as  regards  the  Idea  compared  with  the 
Sensation,  being  inferiority,  both  the  subjective  diiference,  and 
the  objective  or  physical,  admit  of  being  tested  and  measured. 
Many  illustrative  instances  can  be  referred  to  as  showing  that 
the  idea  has  physical  consequences  and  supports,  of  the  same 
nature  as  the  sensation  in  the  actual.  Several  of  these  have  been 
quoted  in  the  text,  and  the  line  of  observation  for  the  purpose  of 
the  inquiry  sufficiently  indicated.  The  superior  associability  of 
impressions  occurring  in  the  actual  over  thoughts  or  ideas  is  very 
manifest,  and  admits  of  being  put  to  experimental  test.  Indeed, 
there  is  no  great  difhculty  in  attaining  numerical  comparisons 
throughout  this  region  of  facts. 

When  we  are  considering  the  Emotion  in  idea,  we  have  to  add 
new  conditions,  without  invalidating  those  already  assigned  for 
intellect  proper.  These  conditions  are  more  properly  given  in 
treating  emotion  as  such. 

Second.  The  Idea  as  favoured  by  Eecency.  It  is  the  very 
nature  and  necessity  of  our  transient  impressions  to  pass  out  of  the 
conscious  area  of  the  moment,  and  to  give  place  to  others  in 
succession.  The  conscious  grasp  at  any  one  instant  is  a  limited, 
measurable  and  statable  quantity.  Yet,  what  has  passed  out  of 
consciousness  for  the  moment  has  a  hold  and  a  status  little 
inferior  to  the  actual  occupants, — equally  needed  for  the  purposes 
of  thought,  and  capable  of  playing  a  part  while  still  outside  the 
field  of  view.  A  vast  range  of  consequences  is  traceable  from  the 
connexion  of  the  present  with  the  series  of  the  recent  and  the 
past.  A  law  of  relative  fading  has  to  be  formulated,  while 
conditions  growing  out  of  our  retentive  power  have  to  be  assigned. 

The  play  of  physical  conditions  is  notably  apparent  in  the 
recovery  of  recent  impressions  under  the  form  of  ideas.  It  is 
not  simply  the  permanent  forces  of  retentiveness  and  recupei'a- 
tion,  taken  on  an  average  in  the  same  individual ;  it  is  also  the 
fluctuation  in  our  patent  physical  workings — nervous  and  mus- 
cular  energy,    repose   and   exhaustion,    involving  of   course   the 


676  APPENDIX. 

different  stages  of  nourishment  of  the  several  organs — that  we 
have  to  reckon  upon,  in  enunciating  the  times  and  circumstances 
of  either  spontaneous  or  prompted  recovery  of  what  has  been 
recently  in  the  view.  One  occurrence  perpetually  exemplified  in 
our  experience  is  the  recovery  of  a  discourse  or  series  of  ideas 
some  hours  after  the  first  reception.  The  interval  is  supposed  to 
be  occupied  in  the  cessation  of  rest  and  other  causes  incidental  to 
mere  time.  Probably,  the  brain  has  become  refreshed  in  the  form 
that  favours  recuperation  of  impressions  of  any  sort.  At  all  events, 
there  comes  a  moment,  either  on  the  same  day  or  on  awakening 
the  day  following,  when  the  flow  of  ideas  comes  with  a  spon- 
taneous rush,  increased  of  course  by  positive  encouragement  or 
absence  of  rival  trains.  The  whole  causation  in  the  case  would 
seem  to  be  purely  physical,  and,  as  such,  statable  in  terms  of  the 
physical.  A  first  recovery  of  any  consecutive  whole  of  a  train  of 
ideas  may  be  followed  by  another  and  another  at  varying  intervals. 
All  this  is  preparatory  to  the  stage  of  subsidence  and  permanent 
memory,  in  accordance  with  the  depth  of  the  impressions  of  the 
actual  in  the  first  instance,  and  the  ideal  repetitions  that  circum- 
stances have  permitted  or  induced.  The  practical  fact  as  regards 
education  is,  that  time  and  space  should  be  allowed  for  these 
spontaneous  ideal  recoveries. 

When  an  impression  in  actuality,  as  in  reading,  listening,  or 
thinking,  has  possessed  a  certain  amount  of  intensity,  there  is  a 
natural  persistence  or  repetition,  without  any  break  ;  even  the 
indulgence  of  this,  if  without  voluntary  forcing,  paves  the  way 
to  the  nervous  rest  that  brings  the  subsidence.  Then,  after  a 
longer  or  shorter  time,  the  recollection  will  assert  itself,  as  in  the 
manner  above  described. 

D. —  The  Prese^itation-Continnum. 

The  doctrine  that  regards  our  mental  growths  as  made  up  of 
ultimate  sensations  united  by  Association,  is  opposed  by  another 
view,  which  lays  the  chief  stress  on  the  differentiation  of  a  primi- 
tive homogeneous  continuity.  It  is  admitted  that,  in  the  end, 
we  become  possessed  of  a  stock  of  associable  elements,  and,  out  of 
these,  go  on  building  up  all  our  higher  attainments.  Yet,  before 
we  can  ask — How  do  isolated  sensation-atoms  combine  to  form  a 
mind  ?  we  have  to  ask — How  does  demarcation  and  partition  grow 
up  within  a  distinctionless  unity  ?     This,  in  fact,  is  the  problem 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   THE    CONTINUUM.  677 

of  evolution  on  the  great  scale  throughout  the  animal  series.  The 
question  for  Psychology,  however,  is  narrowed  to  the  start  of  the 
human  individual.  How  far  has  demarcation  already  gone  with 
the  infant  at  birth,  and  what  remains  to  be  effected  by  the  same 
method — that  is  to  say,  by  differentiating  the  homogeneous  so 
as  to  convert  it  into  the  heterogeneous  ;  or,  in  other  words,  by 
making  what  was  uniform,  various,  or  what  was  simple, 
complex  ? 

Evolution  is  most  fully  brought  home  to  our  minds  by  the 
supposition  that,  at  the  first  start  of  animal  life,  there  were  no 
distinctive  organs,  but  a  homogeneous  tissue  which,  by  successive 
stages,  became  differentiated  and  developed  into  the  higher  com- 
plications of  organized  life.  Out  of  the  one  uniform  sensitive 
tissue — the  single  organ  of  touch,  came  all  our  five  senses,  by  a 
long  succession  of  stages. 

To  this  process,  there  are  various  designations.  One  is — the 
resolving  of  a  continuum  into  a  series  of  discrete  and  distinguish- 
able parts.  Others  are — the  conversion  of  the  uniform  into  the 
various,  the  differentiating  of  the  homogeneous,  and  so  on. 

We  must  not  lose  sight  of  the  enormous  physical  transforma- 
tions in  the  course  of  evolution,  whereby  one  of  the  higher 
animals  comes  into  the  W'Orld,  with  an  apparatus  of  the  utmost 
complicacy  at  all  points,  including  a  plurality  of  Senses,  several 
hundred  separate  Muscles,  and  a  highly- endowed  Brain.  As  these 
are,  by  pre-eminence,  the  organs  of  mind,  the  mental  endowments 
at  birth  are  correspondingly  rich  and  abundant. 

The  doctrine  of  the  Continuum,  as  a  psychological  doctrine, 
supposes  that  the  infant  must  begin  life  with  a  nearly  homo- 
geneous consciousness,  and,  by  degrees,  attain  to  the  varieties  that 
are  familiar  to  our  experience.  But  now,  inasmuch  as  all  the 
sense-organs  are  matured  at  birth,  and  the  brain  almost  equally 
so,  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  these  do  not  operate  to  give  distinct 
sensations  from  the  very  beginning.  Allowing  a  few  hours,  or 
perhaps  days,  for  the  system  to  get  into  working  order,  w^e  can 
give  no  reason  why  a  sound  and  a  sight  should  not  be  as  distinct 
in  the  consciousness  as  ever  they  become  ;  while,  with  the  sense 
of  sight  nearly  mature,  the  spectrum  may  be  distinguishable 
through  all  but  its  nicer  gradations.  The  infant  consciousness 
would  seem  to  be  anything  but  a  continuum  as  supposed.  There 
is  no  analogy  between  evolution  in  its  whole  extent,  from  a  jelly- 
fish to  a  man,  and  evolution  as  merely  filling  out  the  capability 


678  APPENDIX. 

of  the  human  subject,  all  whose  organs  are,  to  a  large  extent, 
completed  at  the  moment  of  birth. 

The  only  matter  of  fact  at  the  basis  of  the  continuum  that  I 
can  see  is,  that  a  considerable  progress  is  made  in  the  delicacy  of 
sense  discrimination,  from  birth  to  maturity.  How  much  this 
amounts  to  has  never  been  precisely  stated.  Very  little  study 
has  hitherto  been  bestowed  on  this  part  of  our  education  ;  nor  has 
any  special  mode  of  quickening  it  been  devised.  The  prominent 
instances  are  seen  in  the  training  of  artisans  and  artists  in  special 
arts.  The  eye  is  cultivated  in  the  form  of  increasing  the  dis- 
crimination of  shades  of  colour  ;  the  ear  for  sound.  We  have  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  this  operation  can  be  carried  very  far ;  and 
the  only  known  method  of  procedure  is  to  strain  the  power  of 
attention.  Great  original  defects  are  known  to  be  incuraiDle : 
colour-blindness  is  a  '  continuum  '  that  cannot  be  differentiated ; 
a  bad  or  indifferent  ear  for  pitch  is  insusceptible  of  being  forced. 

Still  less  felicitous  is  the  employment  of  the  term  to  the  arti- 
ficial products  of  association,  or  the  union  of  discrete' elements 
into  new  trains  :  as  in  speaking  of  an  ideational  continuum.  For 
this  verbal  combination,  there  is  absolutely  no  necessity,  and, 
what  is  worse,  no  propriety.  When  a  flow  of  ideas  is  connected,  by 
association,  the  result  can  be  expressed  as  a  succession,  a  series, 
a  train,  a  chain,  a  concatenation  :  all  which  preserve  the  double 
circumstance — discreteness  in  the  members  and  adhesiveness  in 
the  compound.  A  '  continuum  '  overstates  the  flow^  and  sinks 
the  discreteness.  Continuity  is  at  its  best  when  there  is  little  or 
no  conscious  transition  from  one  part  to  another,  no  sense  of 
joinings  of  distinct  members. 

Within  each  separate  sense,  there  is  a  continuity  in  the  accep- 
tation of  a  homogeneous  basis — a  generic  quality,  with  specific 
variations  of  mode.  The  spectrum  has  optical  homogeneity  ;  the 
musical  scale  is  homogeneous  in  regard  to  sound.  This  circum- 
stance, however,  does  not  even  favour  acquisition  within  the  same 
sense  ;  any  advantage  that  might  arise  from  a  common  ground  of 
sensation,  is  counterbalanced  by  another  circumstance,  namely, 
that  the  transition  from  one  sense  to  another  is  accompanied  with 
a  greater  mental  shock,  the  effect  of  which  is  to  add  to  the 
impressiveness  of  the  coupling. 

My  conclusion  is  that  the  term  '  continuum  '  serves  no  good 
purpose,  but  rather  the  contrary. 


ASSOCIATION   AND    DISSOCIATION.  679 

Contii/uous  Assoa'atioyi  in  the  ideas  of  JVafural  Objects. — A  some- 
what similar  vein  of  criticism  to  the  foregoing  was  adopted  by  a 
critic  in  the  National  Review  (Dr.  James  Martineauj,  who  repre- 
sented '  this  order  of  derivation,  making  our  objective  knowledge 
begin  with  pUirality  and  arrive  at  unity,'  as  '  a  complete  inversion  of 
our  Psychological  history  '.  He  contends,  in  opposition  to  the 
explanations  in  the  text,  '  that  each  state  of  consciousness,  whether 
awakened  through  more  or  fewer  channels,  is,  during  its  continu- 
ance, originally  simple,  and  resolves  itself  only  by  change  of 
equilibrium  '.  '  Experience  proceeds,  and  intellect  is  trained,  not 
by  Association,  but  by  Dissociation,  not  by  reduction  of  pluralities 
of  impression  into  one,  but  by  the  opening  out  of  one  into  many.' 

The  supposed  influence  of  dissociation  is  an  unquestionable 
fact,  but  represents  a  different  phase  in  our  intellectual  opera- 
tions, and  is  no  ways  incompatible  with  the  view  given  in  the  text 
of  the  workings  of  association.  Indeed,  to  deny  association,  as  I 
have  represented  it,  is  to  cripple  and  maim  the  habitual  operations 
of  our  intelligence. 

It  must  be  admitted,  as  the  reviewer  remarks,  that  the  first 
presentation  to  consciousness  of  an  object,  afterwards  accounted 
complex,  may  not  necessarily  give  a  feeling  of  complexity.  It 
may  be  that  the  effect  of  any  new  presentation  begins  with  an 
indefinable  shock — a  rousing  of  consciousness,  through  mere  change 
of  impression.  Such  consciousness  need  not  be  styled  either 
single  or  complex  ;  it  may  be  better  considered  as  purely  vague. 
If  we  could  treat  any  impression  as  an  absolute  novelty,  that  is, 
if  we  were  placing  ourselves  at  the  positive  commencement  of  our 
mental  history  —  a  purely  speculative  supposition,  seeing  that 
that  history  does  not  properly  commence  with  our  birth — we 
should  have  to  regard  that  presentation  as  indefinable  and  incom- 
plete, until  it  had  disappeared  and  reappeared  with  sense  of 
agreement  with  itself  and  difference  from  intervening  impressions  ; 
out  of  all  which  would  be  evolved  the  definite  characteristics  that 
we  finally  place  on  our  mental  record. 

The  ordinary  process  of  Dissociation  in  our  familiar  experi- 
ence, by  which  we  resolve  a  complex  into  its  elements,  may  be 
taken  as  one  application  of  the  law  of  Similarity.  Our  habitual 
position,  as  regards  the  objects  falHng  under  our  cognition,  is  that 
every  one  of  these  complexes  has,  in  the  past,  any  number  of 
resemblances.  Setting  aside  cases  of  absolute  identity,  the  kind 
of  resemblance  that  we  have  to  take  into  account  is  partial.     The 


680  APPENDIX. 

round  figure  of  a  pebble  revives  the  accumulated  impressiou  made 
by  all  experiences  of  roundness  :  the  colour  is  fused  with  all  the 
previous  impressions  of  that  colour  ;  the  hardness  brings  back  the 
sum  total  of  traces  of  the  same  hardness,  and  so  on.  Hence, 
Spencer  justly  describes  perception  as  a  process  of  da'idfiejdwn. 
As  a  compositor  distributing  types  effectually  disintegrates  his 
compound  impression  of  a  word,  by  tossing  an  (i  with  the  n%,  and 
an  n  with  the  7^'s,  so  we  require  a  foregone  reference  for  each 
item  of  a  compound  sensation  ;  but,  when  this  has  been  obtained 
by  means  of  our  growing  stock  of  agreeing  impressions,  we  are 
prepared  for  the  work  of  combining  and  associating  in  the 
manner  explained  in  the  text. 

E. — S'uhjedive  studies  kikI  feiiardt. — p.  467. 

The  Objective  direction  of  the  mind  implies  the  exercise  of 
the  seyines  upon  the  various  properties  of  the  Object  world,  with 
the  least  degree  of  attention  even  to  the  pleasures  and  pains 
growing  out  of  this  exercise.  Extension,  Form,  Colour,  Sound, 
and  the  chief  Tactile  properties,  belong  to  our  objective  attitude. 
They  cannot  be  taken  cognizance  of  in  an  absolute  void  of  sub- 
jective regards,  since  the  motives  to  attention  are,  in  the  last 
resort,  feelings, — that  is,  elements  of  the  Subject.  In  the  inferior, 
and  more  exclusively  emotional,  senses, — Smell,  Taste,  Organic 
Life, — subjectivity  is  more  developed,  and  attains  its  maximum 
in  the  Organic  sensations. 

The  Object  attitude  further  includes  reflexion  on  object  pro- 
perties,— as  when  the  geometer  studies  a  problem  mentally,  or  an 
engineer  meditates  his  plans  before  putting  them  on  paper.  In 
these  situations,  the  mind  is  conversant  with  subject  elements,  in 
the  form  of  ideas ;  but  it  thinks  of  these  ideas  as  representing 
object  realities — it  does  not  make  a  study  (as  a  psychologist 
would  do)  of  the  successions  of  ideas  as  exemplifying  mental 
laws. 

The  study  of  the  sciences  of  the  so-called  External,  or  the 
Object,  world,  is  purely  an  object  attitude.  In  none  of  them  is 
it  absolutely  necessary  to  be  subjectively  engaged.  In  the 
practical  science  named  Logic,  maxims  may  indeed  be  derived 
from  the  study  of  mind;  in  Ethics,  this  is  so  to  a  still  greater 
degree  :  but,  to  that  extent.  Logic  and  Ethics  are  conversant 
with  the  subject  mind. 


OBJECTIVE    AND    SUBJECTIVE    CONTRASTED.  681 

The  various  practical  arts  and  operations  conversant  with 
object  properties  (Agriculture,  Manufactures,  Navigation,  etc.) 
evoke  the  object  regards  by  almost  exclusive  preference.  Except 
in  the  motive  (the  p.nd  of  Ainstotle),  which  must  be  in  the  last 
resort  some  feeling — pleasure  or  pain, — such  arts  do  not  strictly 
involve  in  their  machinery  anything  introspective.  The  exception 
to  the  rule  will  be  noticed  presently. 

Even  as  regards  the  mind  itself,  our  knowledge  is  not  neces- 
sarily, or  wholly,  subjective.  It  nuist  be  so  in  part ;  but,  as 
every  mental  fact  has  a  physical  counterpart,  and  every  mental 
sequence  runs  side  by  side  with  a  physical  sequence,  we  may, 
and  often  do,  remain  content  with  the  physical  aspect,  and  may 
image  the  phenomena  to  ourselves  under  that  aspect  exclusively. 
Such  is  the  form  wherein  we  embody  our  knowledge  of  the  in- 
ferior animals  :  we  make  little  or  no  attempt  to  penetrate  into 
their  consciousness ;  perhaps,  when  they  give  evidence  of  acute 
pain,  or  acute  pleasure,  we  have  a  certain  subjective  sympathy 
with  those  states ;  but  we  think  of  their  characteristics  mainly 
under  the  objective  manifestations — their  likings  and  dislikings 
are  imaged  under  a  variety  of  movements  and  bodily  configura- 
tions, like  a  spinning  jenny  or  the  working  of  a  ship.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  children. 

In  nearly  the  same  exclusively  objective  forms,  we  can  study, 
and  think  of,  our  grown-up  fellow-men.  We  may  refrain  from 
conceiving  their  pleasures,  pains,  emotions,  ideas,  in  the  subjec- 
tive character ;  we  may  think  of  them  all,  through  the  allied 
object  appearances — such  objective  circumstances  as  material 
abundance  or  material  privation,  and  the  objective  displays  in 
action,  gesture,  and  language,  in  symptoms  of  health  or  disease, 
life  or  death.  We  may  even  maintain  a  certain  propriety  of 
conduct  towards  our  fellows,  while  considering  their  interests 
solely  on  the  objective  side.  There  is  comparatively  greater  pre- 
cision and  certainty  in  dealing  with  this  outward  side  :  our  senses 
can  teU  us  whether  any  one  has  had  an  average  meal,  or  the  usual 
amount  of  clothing  ;  and  whether  the  person  has  a  satisfied  cheer- 
ful look,  or  very  much  the  reverse. 

The  practical  management  of.  human  beings  may  be  conducted 
(not  badly)  on  the  same  objective  method.  A  military  connnander 
may  image  or  conceive  his  army  purely  as  a  fighting  engine,  re- 
quiring material  supports,  and  displaying  itself  to  the  eye  of  sense 
by  marching  and  fighting,  and  by  outward  expressions  of  con- 


682  APPENDIX. 

tentment  or  displeasure.  He  may  never  conceive  their  proper 
feelings  at  all ;  perhaps,  he  is  too  exclusively  bent  upon  object 
regards,  to  be  often  aware  of  his  own. 

Nevertheless,  the  knowledge  of  beings  endowed  with  mind  is 
not  complete,  not  thorough,  without,  to  some  extent,  coupling  the 
subject  study  with  the  object  study  :  as  will  be  seen  when  we 
consider  the  precise  nature  and  results  of  a  subjective  reference. 

(1)  We  are  in  a  subject  state,  if  we  are  under  Feeling,  as  when 
alive  to  pleasure  and  pain.  It  is  finally  on  account  of  these  that 
we  exist ;  for  these  we  are  prompted  to  objective  exercises  and 
regards.  Yet  in  the  moments  when  the  object  attitude  is  trium- 
phant, the  feelings  that  induced  it  are  under  an  eclipse  ;  we  have 
to  remit  the  object  strain,  at  intervals,  to  allow  either  pleasure  or 
pain  to  be  felt  or  to  come  into  consciousness.  Now,  as  human 
beings  rarely  exist  in  the  exact  mean  in  anything,  there  may  be 
an  excessive  tendency  to  the  object  attitude,  brought  about  chiefly 
by  great  spontaneous  activity,  and  by  the  predominance  of  the 
object  senses — sight,  touch,  and  hearing  ;  whence,  too  little  space 
IS  given  to  the  subjective  expansion  even  of  moods  of  pleasure. 
The  tracts  of  objective  indifferentism  may  encroach  upon  our 
positive  enjoyments,  since  these  demand  a  certain  frequency  of 
relapses  into  the  subject  attitude.  Subjectivity  enlarges  the  area 
of  feeling,  both  pleasurable  and  painful  :  to  our  gain,  if  pleasure 
is  the  ascendant  fact ;   to  our  loss,  if  pain  predominates. 

(2)  The  Subjective  attention  is  necessary  to  the  recollection  of 
our  pleasures  and  pains,  as  such,  or  on  their  purely  mental  side, 
the  side  wherein  lies  their  power  as  motives.  The  object  side  of 
pleasure  and  pain^the  outward  means  of  procuring  the  one  or 
avoiding  the  other — has  a  motive  force,  but  only  by  association 
wdth  the  subject  fact  ;  and  it  needs  to  be  re-invigorated  and  cor- 
rected by  consulting  the  subject  experience.  The  subjective  study 
is  the  only  way  of  estimating  things  at  their  real  worth  ;  it  teaches 
exactly  what  every  agency  does  for  us  in  the  final  appeal.  Not 
to  bestow  this  amount  of  study  is  to  leave  ourselves  at  the  mercy 
of  irrational  fixed  ideas, — as  wealth  or  the  contempt  of  wealth, 
honour,  power,  affection,  length  of  life,  and  other  things.  Sub- 
jectivity contains  the  part  of  the  philosophic  habit  that  has  regard 
to  the  intrinsic  value  of  each  worldly  good,  which  is  the  measured 
subjective  value,  ascertained  by  self-consciousness,  and  by  an 
accurate  memory  and  comparison  of  experienced  pleasures  and 
pains. 


CASES    FOR    SUBJECTIVE    ATTENTION.  683 

Thus,  although  without  Subjectivity  man  may  be  tolerably 
careful  of  the  usual  outward  aids  and  adjuncts  to  happiness,  it  is 
yet  indispensable  to  the  higliest  development  of  Prudence.  It  is 
also,  to  the  same  extent,  favourable  to  the  fullest  and  truest  forms 
of  Sympathy,  or  to  the  appreciation  of  the  exact  conscious  experi- 
ence of  others,  as  distinguished  from  their  outward  circumstances 
and  manifestations. 

(3)  The  subjective  tendency  is  also  necessary  to  the  delicate 
sense  of  right  and  wrong.  Ethical  self-examination,  to  be 
thorough,  must  be  conscious,  having  regard  to  the  feelings, 
motives,  or  intentions  of  the  actor.  It  may  not,  however,  be 
essential  to  rectitude  in  all  degrees,  but  only  to  the  highest 
degrees.  The  Stoical  morality,  as  seen  in  Marcus  Aurelius,  was 
intensely  subjective  ;  so  also  is  the  highest  morality  of  the  modern 
world. 

The  best  practical  mode  of  seizing  the  ideal  balance  of  the 
objective  and  subjective  regards,  is,  in  the  manner  of  Aristotle,  to 
study  the  extremes. 

The  Objective  regards  have  these  signal  advantages.  They 
are  favourable  to  activity  ;  they  promote  health  ;  they  subdue 
both  a  considerable  amount  of  pain,  and  also  morbid  broodings 
and  discontents.  They  alternate  the  outbursts  of  pleasure  with 
large  periods  of  satisfied  indifference  ;  thereby  enhancing  enjoy- 
ments when  they  come.  The  delineation  of  Plot-Interest  is  the 
illustration  of  these  advantages. 

The  disadvantages  of  too  great  Objectivity  are  expressed  by 
the  negation  of  what  has  been  said  in  favour  of  the  subjective 
regards. 

The  disadvantages  of  excessive  Subjectivity  are  also  implicated 
in  the  above  remarks.  Explicitly,  they  may  be  described  as  an 
inactive,  unhealthy,  morbid  preying  upon  self ;  an  aggravation  of 
painful  states  generally  ;  an  extreme  occupation  of  mind  with 
organic  feelings,  called  hypochondria  ;  a  tendency  to  push  ethical 
self-examination  to  the  point  where  it  brings  misery  rather  than 
a  stimulus  to  duty  ;  a  my sticizing  disposition  to  convert  subjective 
abstractions — as  soul,  will,  conscience — into  independent  exist- 
ences; an  extreme  idealism,  with  a  distaste  for  the  practical 
world  as  it  is  ;  a  susceptibility  to  opposition  and  to  reproach  ;  a 
revulsion  against  the  coarse,  indiscriminate  energy  of  the  objec- 
tive man. 

Self-consciovisness  varies  with  the  condition  of  the  individual 


684  APPENDIX. 

as  regards  health  and  vigour  and  also  age.  The  robust  frame  is 
naturally  objective  ;  states  of  exhaustion,  bodily  depression,  feeble 
health,  pain  or  discomfort — favour  the  self-conscious  attitude. 
Youth  is  objective  ;  the  tendency  of  advancing  age  is  to  promote 
subjectivity. 

The  ancient  world,  compared  w^ith  the  modern,  was  objective. 
Homer,  as  a  poet,  was  in  the  objective  extreme  ;  Wordsworth  is 
near  the  other  extreme.  Shakespeare  has  strong  subjective 
leanings  ;  but,  in  him,  there  is  a  good  mixture  of  both. 

The  excess  of  subjectivity^  is  seen  in  the  religious  mystics. 
An  admirable  example  is  introduced  by  Goethe,  into  Wilhelm 
Meisfer,  under  the  title  '  Confessions  of  a  Fair  Saint '. 

Adam  Smith's  Theonj  of  Moral  Se.ntiments  is  a  continuous 
subjective  exposition  ;  his  language  and  illustration  preponderate 
towards  subjectivity. 

(4)  The  study  of  the  mind,  as  a  science,  must  contain  an 
element  of  introspection.  Tbere  is  difference  of  opinion  as  to 
what  ratio  this  should  bear  to  the  objective  study  of  the  physical 
concomitants  of  the  mind.  Some  psychologists  define  the  science 
of  mind,  as  the  science  of  the  facts  of  Consciousness,  meaning 
Self-consciousness  or  subjectivity  ;  as,  for  example,  Hamilton  and 
Cousin.  Auguste  Comte,  in  his  Coiirs  de  Pliilosophie  Positice, 
rejected  self-consciousness  as  a  source  of  mental  knowledge,  and 
proposed  an  exclusive  reference  to  the  material  adjuncts,  as 
exhibited  in  the  Physiology  of  the  brain.  The  only  tenable 
position  is  the  combination  of  both. 

F. — The  Abstractions — Number,  Space,   Time,   Self. 

In  the  great  controversy  as  to  whether  our  entire  knowledge 
is  derived  from  experience,  or  whether  part  of  it  is  derived  from 
an  ivtaitive  source,  the  supporters  of  the  last-named  view  have 
given  various  enumerations  of  the  elements  declared  to  be  intui- 
tive or  innate.  Those  elements  are  stated  either  in  the  shape  of 
Notions — as  Time,  Space,  Cause,  or  in  the  shape  of  Frinciples — 
as  the  axioms  of  Mathematics,  and  the  law  of  Causation  In 
point  of  fact,  however,  the  same  intuition  is  -given  sometimes  as 
a  notion,  and  sometimes  as  a  principle.  Thus,  the  intuition  of 
space  is  considered  identical  with  the  intuition  of  the  geometrical 
axioms.  The  notion  '  cause,'  and  the  law  of  cause  and  effect,  must 
be  treated  as  the  same  thing  in  a  different  form  of  speech. 


ATTRIBUTE    OF    QUANTITY   AND   NUMBER.  685 

For  example,  Mansel's  enumeration  of  innate  elements  (exclu- 
sive of  the  moral  sentiment)  would  probably  be  exhausted  by 
the  notions — Time,  Space,  Cause,  Substance,  together  with  the 
principle'^  of  Identity,  Contradiction,  and  Excluded  Middle  (called 
the  Laws  of  Thought).  Each  of  the  notions  could  at  will  be  ex- 
pressed in  the  form  of  principles.  It  is  sometimes  said,  that  the 
axioms  of  Geometry  flow  out  of,  or  are  derived  from,  the  notion 
of  Space  ;  but,  more  correctly,  the  notion  and  the  axioms  are  to 
be  held  as  the  same  intuition  in  an  altered  dress. 

Number.  Of  all  the  attributes  of  things  knowable  to  us,  the 
most  comprehensive  and  widely  spread  is  Quantity.  We  cannot 
be  conscious  at  all  without  the  consciousness  of  more  or  less— 
of  degree,  or  quantity.  Our  very  first  acts  of  discrimination  and 
of  identification  have  a  certain  reference  to  the  degree  of  our 
feelings  :  of  two  differing  sensations  of  light,  one  is  felt  as  more 
intense  than  the  other ;  of  two  muscular  energies,  we  recognize 
the  difference  of  amount.  It  is  the  same  with  pleasures  and 
pains,  and  with  less  intellectual  feelings  generally.  The  property 
called  '  degree '  is  inseparable  alike  from  object  states  and  from 
subject  states.  We  even  discriminate  different  modes  of  degree  : 
we  distinguish  the  fact  of  continuance  from  the  fact  of  intencitij, 
and  estimate  the  degree  of  each  by  comparison  with  its  own 
kind  ;  one  day  is  longer  than  another  ;  one  flame  is  brighter  than 
another. 

Our  estimate  of  degree  is  more  or  less  delicate  according  to 
the  quality  of  the  sense  concerned.  In  the  higher  senses — sight 
and  hearing, — our  discrimination  is  at  the  maximum — as  in  the 
interesting  case  of  visible,  or  retinal,  magnitude. 

Quantity,  or  degree,  is  familiarly  divided  into  two  kinds — 
rontinuoux  and  discrete. 

Continuous,  or  unbroken  quantity,  is  the  more  typical  form. 
Its  best  example  is  the  Duration  of  a  continuous  impression — the 
continuance  of  a  muscular  exertion,  a  sound,  a  pleasure.  It 
further  applies  to  Extension,  whose  primary  measure  is  the  con- 
tinuance or  duration  of  movement.  It  does  not  apply  to  intensive 
quantity,  or  the  comparison  between  a  stronger  and  a  weaker 
impression, — as  the  loudness  of  a  sound,  or  the  brilliancy  of  a 
light. 

Discrete  quantity  is  the  same  as  number.  It  supposes  our  im- 
pressions to  be  interrupted,  or  changed  ;  and  takes  advantage  of 


686  APPENDIX. 

the  effect  of  sudden  change  in  making  us  acutely  conscious,  or 
mentally  wakeful.  In  the  case  of  breaks,  or  interruptions,  we 
note  the  frequencij  of  the  transitions  ;  we  mark  the  difference  be- 
tween a  transition  made  once,  and  a  series  of  those  transitions — 
two,  three,  four,  and  so  on.  This  is  Number.  It  is  in  various 
ways  a  remarkable  experience.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  given  by 
every  sensibility  that  we  possess.  By  Aristotle,  it  was  accounted 
one  of  the  common  perceivables,  or  the  notions  attained  through 
all  our  senses  alike, — w^hich  is  true,  but  not  the  whole  truth.  We 
have  it  by  every  one  of  our  emotions  ;  we  distinguish  a  day  when 
we  had  one  surprise,  one  fright,  one  fit  of  anger,  or  one  burst  of 
tender  feeling,  from  a  day  when  we  had  two  or  three  such 
experiences.  We  have  it  from  the  fiow  of  our  ideas,  which  are 
interrupted  or  discrete  effects. 

In  the  second  place,  Number  is  our  best  and  most  accurate 
means  of  expressing  quaiitity.  The  most  delicate  of  our  sensi- 
bilities— visible  magnitude — may  be  to  some  degree  inaccurate  : 
two  persons  may  differ  as  to  whether  two  rods  exactly  coincide 
in  length  ;  but  nobod}^  was  ever  mistaken  in  the  difference  be- 
tween one  and  two.  Hence,  the  highest  art  of  measuring  both 
continuous  quantity  and  intensive  quantity,  consists  in  resolving 
each  into  discrete  quantity ;  the  beats  of  a  clock  are  a  surer 
measure  of  time  than  the  place  of  the  hands  between  the  dial 
figures. 

Probably  no  one  now  contends  that  Number  as  such  is  an 
intuition,  or  a  '  form  of  thought,'  provided  by  nature  beforehand. 
It  is  a  fact  inseparable  from  the  nature  of  our  feelings :  if  these 
are  intermitted  and  resumed,  they  are,  by  that  very  circumstance, 
numbered ;  and  if  our  consciousness  is  interrupted  by  beats,  or 
transitions,  it  is  a  consciousness  of  number. 

Space.  The  origin  of  our  notion  of  the  Extended, — the  charac- 
teristic property  of  the  object  world,  has  been  already  traced  in 
its  successive  stages,  under  the  heads  of  Muscular  Feeling  (p.  96), 
Touch  (p.  198),  Sight  (p.  254),  External  Perception  (p.  387). 

If  we  accept  the  inference  formerly  drawn  (see  p.  330)  from 
the  precocious  reading  of  Emotional  Expression  in  infancy,  and 
from  the  instinctive  aptitudes  of  the  lower  animals — that  inference 
being  that  space  relations,  in  all  the  three  dimensions,  are  embodied 
in  us  at  birth,  to  be  unfolded  and  perfected,  but  not  created,  by 
•experience  and  education, — the  problem  of   the  origin  of  space 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    NOTION    OF    SPACE.  687 

must  take  an  entirely  new  departure.  The  controversy  between 
the  Kantian  and  the  Lockian,  or  experience,  school,  as  to  the 
priority  of  forms  of  thought  to  any  concrete  experience,  is  trans- 
ferred to  a  higher  plane.  When  we  accept  the  rendering  of 
Instinct  by  Hereditary  Experience,  we  must  pursue  backwards,  in 
tlie  animal  succession,  every  aptitude  that  is  not  obviously  gene- 
rated by  our  life  experience.  The  derivation  of  our  notions  of 
Space,  or  of  whatever  may  be  our  mental  position  at  birth  as  con- 
tributing to  such  notions,  must  be  carried  backwards  in  the  animal 
development  to  a  point  where  we  can  gratify  our  curiosity  only  by 
plausible  hypotheses,  grounded  on  knowledge  of  actual  intellectual 
workings. 

What  then  have  we  to  proceed  upon  in  such  a  speculative  re- 
trospect ?  The  answer  is,  that  the  notion  of  Space  in  the  concrete 
is  a  composite  notion  ;   its  analysis  is  rendered  possible  by  our 
consciousness,  by  which  we  can  trace,  in  the  compound,  a  number 
of  elements  that  we  regard  as  simple.     These  elements  are   of 
course  the  sensations  of  our  senses,  more  especially  Sight  and 
Touch,  coupled  with  our  Muscular  Sensibility.     A  certain  amount 
of  controveisy  still  adheres  to  this  analysis.     For  one  thing,  it  is 
questioned,  whether  the   muscular  feelings  are   an  essential  in- 
gredient in  the  idea.    For  another  thing,  it  is  alleged  that  the  notion 
is  partly  or  wholly  made  up  of  those  sensible  feelings,  that  have  the 
character  of  massiveness,  through  extent  of  superficial  contact.  The 
tendency  with  recent  authorities,  seems  to  be  to  combine  a  certain 
amount  of  nmscular  feeling  with  the  sensations  possessing  mass 
or  extensity.     There  is  no  other  w^ay  of  settling  this  than  by  an 
appeal  to  our  present  consciousness.     If  it  is  admitted,  as  already 
contended  (see  p.  389),  that  the  very  meaning,  import,  or  essence 
of  extension,  is  scope  for  movement,  then  our  muscular  sensibility, 
by  which  movement  is  cognized,  is  the  veritable  groundwork  of 
the  notion,  aided,  it  is  true,  by  a  number  of  sensible  experiences 
which  bring  out  into  relief  the  muscular  fact.      It  can  only  be  a 
matter  of  individual  opinion,  that  extensity  in  sensation  is  a  co- 
operating factor.   We  know  that  such  extensity  or  mass  of  sensation 
is  now  to  us  a  sign,  measure,  or  criterion  of  extension — an  effect 
that  would  necessarily  be  produced  by  long  association  ;  but  we  do 
not  know,  and  never  shall  know,  whether  in  the  first  commencement 
of  that  notion  in  the  animal  series,  extensive  or  massive  sensation 
was  the  groundwork,  in  whole  or  in  part,  of  what  we  are  now  con- 
scious of  as  tri-dimensional  space. 


688  APPENDIX. 

The  whole  speculation  as  to  the  origin  and  upbuilding  of  our 
conception  of  Space  would  have  to  follow  the  manifested  powers 
.at  birth  of  the  animal  series  through  all  its  successive  gradations. 
Supposing  it  first  started  in  some  remote  ancestry  of  sentient 
beings,  it  would  seem  to  have  been  variously  modified  in  the  dif- 
ferent tribes,  according  to  their  peculiar  circumstances.  It  most 
manifestly  attained  a  perfect  working  pitch  in  all  such  creatures 
as,  at  the  instant  of  birth,  can  make  their  own  way  and  provide 
for  themselves  in  their  special  environment ;  that  environment 
being  of  course  the  three  dimensions  of  space,  occupied  with 
material  suited  to  their  wants. 

No  doubt  a  considerable  amount  of  our  own  early  education 
consists  in  advancing  to  perfection  our  familiarity  with  the  outer 
world  in  its  space  relations.  Moreover,  our  knowledge  of  space, 
in  its  highest  consummation,  contains  a  number  of  artificial 
notions  belonging  to  a  late  civilization, — by  which  we  deal  with  it 
in  all  its  aspects,  measure  its  amount,  multiply,  divide,  and  sub- 
divide its  contents  for  our  various  purposes. 

Careful  researches  into  infant  development  may  do  something 
to  assign  the  comparative  shares  of  Instinct  and  Experience,  in 
this  vast  endowment.  Our  inquiries  have  gone  far  enough  to 
make  certain,  that  life  experience  cannot  account  for  it.  We 
may  further  dismiss  as  a  pure  irrelevance  and  waste  of  words 
the  much-debated  issue  connected  with  the  familiar  designation 
'  Forms  of  Thought '. 


"O" 


Thne.  This  is  one  of  the  intuitive  '  forms '  of  the  a  priori 
school.  The  Experience  Psychology  treats  it  as  an  abstraction 
from  'particulars.  In  our  feeling  of  the  continuous,  whether  in 
movement,  in  sensation,  in  emotion,  or  in  intellectual  strain,  we 
have  a  consciousness  of  degree,  and  that  consciousness  is  the  fact 
called  Time  or  Duration.  Time,  in  the  abstract,  is  the  generali- 
zation of  all  these  modes  of  the  continuous,  and  apart  from  these, 
or  prior  to  these,  it  does  not  exist.  We  cannot  be  conscious  of 
two  movements  being  differently  prolonged, — as,  for  example, 
lifting  (at  the  same  pace)  a  weight  one  foot  and  lifting  it  two 
feet — without  having  a  particular  experience  of  duration ;  we 
could  not  be  deprived  of  that  cognition,  without  being  deprived 
of  one  phase  of  our  discriminative  muscular  sensibility.  Should 
this  be  so,  a  form  of  thought  pre-existing  in  the  mind,  corre- 
sponding to  Time,  is  a  superfluity  :  it  could  add  nothing  to  our 


OEIGIN    OF    THE    NOTION    OF    TIME.  689' 

particular  experiences  of  duration  ;  and  our  generalizing  faculty 
can  obtain,  out  of  these,  whatever  is  nieant  by  Time  in  general, 
or  in  the  abstract. 

While  we  have  thus  a  sufficient  basis  for  estimating  degree,  in 
the  endurance  of  our  conscious  states,  a  certain  clearance  is 
supposed  to  be  requisite  in  order  to  evolve  all  that  is  meant  by 
Time.  Just  as  Space,  when  fully  developed,  comprises  the  world 
of  objective  existence,  viewed  as  a  contemporaneous  whole,  so 
Time  is  the  great  complementary  abstraction  necessary  to  assign 
the  phases  of  succession  that  make  up  the  great  stream  of 
causation  or  production,  identified  with  the  interests  of  living 
humanity.  There  might  l^e  consciousness  of  duration  of  Subject 
states  out  of  relation  to  the  rigid,  predictable,  and  causal  suc- 
cession of  outward  events.  Our  flights  of  imagination  have  their 
continuity  and  conscious  measurement,  without  being  represen- 
tative of  Time,  as  an  Object  fact.  The  Succession  that  we  are  in 
quest  of,  and  have  to  account  for,  is  the  transition  of  a  past  that 
has  been  present  into  a  now  present,  to  be  continued  into  a  yet 
future. 

It  will  thus  be  obvious  that  the  Time  notion  carries  with  it 
certain  elements  beyond  the  sphere  of  pure  Intellect.  In  particular, 
it  has  reference  to  the  state  called  Belief,  as  applied  both  to  the 
Past  and  to  the  Future.  As  regards  the  Past,  it  contains  the 
reliance  upon  the  former  reality  of  something  persisting  as  an 
idea.  It  discriminates  among  our  present  ideas  the  representa- 
tives of  former  reality  from  those  that  have  no  such  representation. 
As  regards  the  Future,  we  need  to  distinguish  between  present 
ideas  that  are  to  become  realities  and  those  that  are  not. 

In  this  enlarged  conception  of  Time,  we  are  supposed  to  be 
able  to  extricate  a  real  past,  a  real  present,  and  a  real  future  from 
the  promiscuous  flow  of  our  ideas  as  determined  by  the  intellectual 
forces  and  chance  presentations  of  our  ditferent  senses.  The 
elementary  situation  is  assumed  to  be  a  sensation  that  has  just 
occurred  in  the  actual,  and  has  given  place  to  another  now  in  the 
actual.  Both  the  idea  of  the  past,  and  the  sensation  of  the 
present,  are  coupled  in  the  consciousness  of  the  moment.  With 
the  ideal  element,  we  have  inseparably  combined  the  consciousness 
that  it  was  an  instant  ago  an  actual,  like  the  present  actual.  Its 
faintness,  its  unsteadiness  of  hold,  are  its  marks  as  an  idea ;  and 
its  distinction  from  what  is  now  the  actual,  namely,  the  present 
sensation.     We  may  suppose  the  moon  before  us  in  full  vision  ; 

44 


'690  APPENDIX. 

this  is  a  sensation,  in  other  words,  an  actuahty.  In  an  instant,  a 
cloud  passes  and  obscures  it.  The  actuahty  now  is  the  visible 
cloud  and  the  diminished  luminosity  accompanying  the  obscura- 
tion. The  previous  actuality — that  is,  the  unclouded  moon  in 
its  full  presence — has  become  an  idea  ;  it  co-exists  with  the  new 
reality,  the  visible  image  of  the  cloud.  This  is  the  conscious 
situation,  when  we  combine  in  our  view  a  present  and  a  past. 
The  persisting  representation  of  the  moon  in  such  a  conjunction 
is  what  we  rely  upon  for  treating  it  as  a  veritable  past.  The 
legends  of  former  ages  have  been  described  as  a  past  that  never 
was  present.  They  are  separated  from  reality  or  actuality  by  a 
chasm  that  cannot  be  bridged.  The  past  that  was  once  present 
has  an  ideal  continuity  with  the  actual  present,  every  step  of 
which  must  have  brought  an  ideal  and  an  actual  into  the  same 
moment  of  consciousness. 

Our  varied  experience  of  successions — object  and  subject — 
has  been  seen  to  leave  in  the  memory  an  enormous  deposit  of 
intellectual  products  available  for  the  purposes  of  life.  We  have 
further  acquired  an  immense  representative  machinery  for  express- 
ing succession  as  a  measurable  fact.  Both  of  these  acquisitions 
apparently  may  be  accounted  for  by  our  conscious  life  experience. 
Now,  as  we  have  seen  that  space,  in  any  view  of  it,  needs  a  very 
large  contribution  from  our  supposed  hereditary  experience,  it 
falls  to  us  to  ask  whether  the  notions  of  time  and  succession  that 
we  trace  in  ourselves,  as  far  back  as  memory  can  carry  us,  are  more 
matured  than  the  intellectual  growth  of  previous  years  can  account 
for.  At  first  blush,  it  would  seem  that  time  and  succession  are 
much  less  complicated  in  their  nature  than  Space  in  its  three 
dimensions.  Supposing  we  come  into  the  world  with  a  prepara- 
tion for  conceiving  Space, — is  there  any  assignable  preparation 
necessary  for  beginning  our  education  in  Time  in  order  to  the 
maturity  that  it  possesses  in  oin:  fourth  year  ?  The  answer  to 
this  question  is  by  no  means  easy.  It  needs  a  precise  determi- 
nation of  what  the  time  notion  amounts  to,  in  our  earliest  con- 
scious years.  Possibly,  if  we  could  analyze  it  fully,  it  might  depend 
upon  our  space  notion,  as  a  part,  and  upon  elements  of  succession 
that  we  could  not  arrive  at  without  some  instinctive  commence- 
ment. Nevertheless,  to  state  what  that  instinctive  commence- 
ment might  be,  is  probably  a  task  too  subtle  for  our  present 
resources.  We  should  not  only  have  to  strip  off  all  the  artificial 
machinery  of  time    measurement — years,   months,   days,   hours, 


SELF    OR   THE    EGO.  691 

minutes,  etc. — but  some  perceptions  in  advance  of  all  these,  viz. — 
the  sequence  of  visible  events  around  us,  having  their  embodi- 
ment in  modes  of  Extension,  coupled  with  belief  in  the  past  and 
reliance  in  the  future.  How  to  arrive  at  the  reality  of  past,  pre- 
sent, and  future,  for  our  most  familiar  and  pressing  needs,  and 
what  groundwork  of  an  instinctive  kind  would  be  involved  therein, 
it  would  w^ith  our  present  knowledge  be  too  venturesome  to  pro- 
nounce. All  that  we  could  say  with  safety  is,  that  the  gift  of 
heredity  or  hereditary  transmission  may  apply  to  one  notion  as 
well  as  to  the  other  ;  and  that  something  may  be  gained,  from 
the  experience  of  former  generations,  in  aid  of  the  jsrimordial 
ingredients  of  our  sense  of  real  succession. 

We  have  found  the  observation  of  the  inferior  animals  to  be  of 
use  in  confirming  the  intuitive  character  of  Space.  We  have  had 
to  regard  the  aptitudes  of  a  quadruped  or  a  bird  w^ithin  a  few 
hours  or  days  of  birth,  to  be  entirely  beyond  the  scope  of  ex- 
perience or  education.  This  is  as  regards  Space.  We  may 
now  put  the  question — ^Is  there  anything  in  those  aptitudes  that 
implies  a  cognition  of  the  essentials  of  Time  ?  The  sheep  soon 
attains  a  notion  of  its  surroundings  in  space — of  the  near  and  the 
far,  the  right  and  the  left.  Is  there  any  further  implication  in  its 
doings  of  the  nature  of  Time-succession  ?  Apparently  there  nuist 
be.  There  is  at  least  some  experience  of  causation,  and  a  dis- 
position at  the  first  glance  to  proceed  upon  it  in  the  operations  of 
self -maintenance . 

Anyhow,  the  hypothesis  of  a  pre-existing  form  of  thought  for 
Time  would  seem  as  little  adapted  to  the  problem  viewed  in 
the  light  of  heredity,  as  it  is  to  the  still  vaster  accomplishment 
of  entering  upon  tri-dimensional  space. 

Another  discussion,  attached  to  the  problem  of  Time,  relates  to 
our  feeling  of  a  series  of  events  as  rapid  or  as  slow,  the  actual 
duration  being  the  same.  An  hour's  duration,  according  to  the 
events  that  it  contains,  and  the  state  of  our  feelings,  may  seem 
much  longer  or  much  shorter  than  the  actual  hour.  The  causes 
of  this  variation  of  estimate  of  the  same  period  of  time  are  an 
interesting  study  in  themselves,  but  have  only  an  incidental 
bearing  upon  the  main  problem  of  the  origin  and  growth  of  our 
notion  of  time-succession  (see  Hoffding,  Psijchology,  English 
translation,  p.  188). 

Self — The  Ego — PersonaUtij.     As  a  problem  of  geiipsis,  the  topic 


69'i  APPENDIX. 

indicated  by  these  names  has  to  be  cleared  of  a  number  of  ques- 
tions given  under  the  same  titles  when  fully  expressed  by  help 
of  their  completing  contrasts,  namely,  self,  not-self ;  subject, 
object ;  ego,  non-ego  ;  personal,  impersonal. 

Here,  as  with  the  other  great  fundamental  notions  or  abstrac- 
tions, we  need  to  modify  our  rendering  of  growth  or  development 
by  the  fact  of  inheritance  from  the  past.  The  stages  whereby 
the  child  is  supposed  to  reach  the  mature  notion  of  Self,  the  Ego, 
may  be  correctly  set  forth  in  the  order  of  sequence  or  develop- 
ment, and  may  yet  require  a  retrospective  reference,  instead  of 
being  limited  to  the  individual  lifetime.  If  Space,  as  conceived 
at  the  earliest  moment  that  we  are  able  to  read  mental  history, 
be  an  acquirement  much  beyond  the  education  resources  of  the 
individual,  so  may  be  the  distinction  of  Self  and  Not-self,  however 
correctly  we  may  assign  the  steps  in  the  building  up  of  the 
distinction.  This  observation  does  not  interfere  with  our 
attempts  to  render  an  account  of  the  process  ;  it  only  shows  that 
there  is,  in  all  probability,  something  entirely  inscrutable  in  the 
absolutely  primitive  start. 

The  assumption  that  space  or  extension  is  a  mental  possession, 
whether  as  fully  realized  or  as  largely  prepared  for,  would,  as  a 
matter  of  necessity,  be  a  step  towards  the  distinction  of  Self  and 
Not-self.  Indeed,  we  may  say  that  the  clear  consciousness  of 
Extension  would  carry  us  as  far  back  in  mental  history  as  any 
acquirement  that  can  be  named.  We  are  utterly  at  sea  in  any 
attempt  to  describe  the  earliest  dawn  of  the  notion,  and,  perhaps, 
equally  so  in  endeavouring  to  imagine  its  necessary  implications 
or  accompaniments. 

Eeverting  to  the  various  allied  issues  that  have  come  before  us, 
in  our  review  of  the  mental  forces  concerned  in  our  psychical 
development,  we  find  the  following  : — 

(1)  The  Definition  of  Mind  proper.  In  conducting  this  inquiry, 
we  were  content  to  take  Mind  in  its  commonly  recognized  workings, 
and  to  say  nothing  as  to  the  steps  whereby  we  have  arrived  at  our 
mature  conception  of  its  nature.  This  carries  us  back  to  our 
introductory  start  in  the  present  work. 

(2)  The  analysis  of  Subject  and  Object',  with  a  view  to  show 
which  of  the  constituents  of  our  mental  experience  or  conscious- 
ness are  aggregated  round  each.  For  thig  problem  also,  we  are 
satisfied  to  deal  with  mature  states  or  conditions  of  mind,  and 
think  it  unnecessary  to  go  back  to  the  genesis  or  history  of  these. 


GENESIS    OF    THE    NOTION    OF    SELF.  693 

In  short,  we  do  not  make  it  a  research  into  origins  or  educational 
development. 

(3)  The  distinction  of  Subject  and  Object  regards, — the  alter- 
nate engrossment  of  the  present  consciousness  with  one  or  other 
respectively,  the  circumstances  that  make  either  predominate  for 
the  time, — make  up  a  theme  both  interesting  in  a  speculative 
point  of  view,  and  important  in  its  practical  bearings.  This  has 
been  sufficiently  handled  both  in  the  text,  and  in  the  supple- 
mentary note  (E)  immediately  preceding.  This  topic  also  is 
devoid  of  reference  to  the  origin  of  our  cognition  of  the  Ego  or 
Self,  as  an  organic  growth. 

(4)  Mind  and  Body,  in  their  ordinary  contrast,  do  not  precisely 
coincide  with  any  one  of  these  three  coupled  designations.  ^  Mind 
no  doubt  still  means  the  subject,  as  in  the  first  and  second  issues  ; 
but  the  name  Body  is  limited  to  our  corporeal  framework,  and 
lays  stress  upon  that  as  an  organic  unity,  special  to  the  individual. 

The  contrast  of  Self  and  Not-self,  where  the  Not-self  means 
other  living  and  conscious  beings,  may  also  be  introduced  as  an 
alternative  issue  ;  but  is  more  intimately  involved  than  perhaps 
any  of  the  others  with  the  question  that  we  have  to'handle. 

On  setting  aside  these  various  leading  issues,  with  a  view  to 
isolate  the  problem  immediately  in  hand,  which,  however,  may 
incidentally  require  their  aid,  and  further  on  refusing  to  limit 
the  search  for  an  origin  to  the  individual  life,  we  may  state  the 
question  to  be  : — What  are  the  ultimate  elements  of  mental  experi- 
ence that  lend  themselves  to  the  growth  of  the  great  aggregate 
termed  the  consciousness  of  Self,  and  what  is  the  order  of  time  in 
their  respective  contributions  ?  Among  those  psychologists  that 
have  directed  their  attention  to  this  special  department  of  inquiry, 
there  is  a  certain  concurrence,  both  as  regards  the  constituents  of 
the  notion,  and  as  to  the  succession  of  the  strata  deposited  during 
its  growth. 

It  is  by  f>n  attentive  study  of  infant  development  that  we 
bring  the  topic  before  us  within  the  reach  of  definite  cognizance. 
Althovigh  this  development  may  involve  inscrutable  preparatory 
antecedents,  yet  we  must  be  content  with  stating  the  order  of 
dependence  and  sequence  in  terms  of  the  infant  manifestations. 
In  Professor  Sully's  exhaustive  assignment  of  early  impressions 
contributing  to  the  final  aggregation  of  self  as  a  product,  promi- 
nence is  given  to  the  following  circumstances  : — For  one  thing,  the 
child  may  be  supposed  to  take  cognizance  of  its  own  body,  partly 


694  -  APPENDIX. 

as  a  visible  object  distinct  from  other  visible  objects,  partly  as 
giving  birth  to  a  variety  of  sensations  in  conjunction  w^ith  its  visible 
aspects,  and  more  especially  its  movements.  This  is  a  portion  of 
the  process  needed  for  the  subject  and  object  distinction  in  tbe 
foregoing  meanings  (1)  and  (2). 

Again,  stress  is  laid  more  particularly  upon  the  Organic  Sen- 
sations as  being  an  almost  initial  element  in  our  cognition  of  self. 
The  organic  pleasures  and  pains  force  themselves  into  conscious- 
ness, and  are  in  obvious  contrast  to  other  forms  of  sense  con- 
sciousness, as  sights,  sounds,  and  touches ;  they  are  truly  and 
unmistakably  states  of  the  Ego  from  first  to  last.  They  may 
well  be  supposed  to  have  priority,  when  we  compare  their  standing 
with  the  other  contributory  mental  experiences  next  to  be  men- 
tioned. 

The  power  of  putting  forth  action  to  a  wish  or  an  end,  thereby 
getting  rid  of  some  pain  or  attaining  some  gfatification,  is  an 
additional  phase  of  the  child's  being,  which  when  taken  notice  of, 
would  be  distinguished  as  object  sensation  and  readily  unite  with 
organic  feelings.  The  consciousness  of  Self  as  an  active  being 
would  start  from  such  elementary  efforts.  We  may  very  readily 
mistake  the  date  of  maturity  of  this  addition  to  the  earlier  con- 
sciousness of  pure  organic  sensation,  but,  sooner  or  later,  it  will 
fall  into  the  growing  aggregate. 

That  Ideation  as  opposed  to  Sensation  is  a  constituent  in  our 
cognition  of  the  totality  of  mind  is  admitted  at  all  points.  The 
exact  moment  and  circumstances  of  its  appearing  in  the  child 
consciousness  may  not  be  assigned  with  any  precision  ;  but,  from 
the  nature  of  the  case,  it  may  be  surmised  to  be  of  later  maturity 
than  the  previously  named  constituents.  To  contrast  Imagining 
with  Perceiving  is  merely  a  variety  or  consequence. 

The  relations  of  the  child  to  those  about  it,  of  which  one  of 
the  many  incidents  is  the  use  of  language,  as  in  distinguishing  the 
personal  pronouns,  makes  the  child  aware  of  itself — bodily  and 
mental — as  a  separate  entity  or  personality,  resembling  other  per- 
sonalities, but  yet  separated  from  them.  When  the  child  begins 
to  use  language  on  its  own  account,  its  progress  is  no  longer  sub- 
ject to  ambiguity :  the  stages  are  all  manifest  to  observation. 
We  can  then  confirm  the  hypothetical  surmises  as  to  the  first 
stages,  and  trace  out  those  that  remain  to  be  accomplished. 

What  view  the  child  takes  of  the  inner  self,  as  distinct  from  the 
bodily  self,  and  how  this  view  becomes  gradually  modified,  may 


PERSONALITY.  695 

be  discovered  by  attentive  observation  in  each  individual  case. 
There  must  be  great  personal  differences  in  these  respects,  and 
the  influence  of  others,  in  suggesting  and  shaping  the  result,  will 
be  the  tinal  determining  element,  and  will  be  easily  known.  We 
must  go  far  beyond  infancy  in  order  to  see  the  matured  and  com- 
pleted aggregation,  such  as  it  happens  to  be.  Illusions  have  to 
be  dispelled,  and  distinctions  drawn  that  require  both  maturity  of 
years  and  special  education,  or  natural  power  of  intelligence. 

Eetrospective  memory,  with  its  power  of  ordering  ideas  in 
chronological  sequence,  makes  up  what  is  known  as  Personal 
Identity.  This  covers  both  the  mental  and  the  bodily  history, 
including  at  the  same  time  such  outward  surroundings  as  give  aid 
to  the  coherence  and  fulness  to  the  contents.  The  combined 
bodily  and  mental  self  is  what  we  most  easily  conceive  and  retain. 
It  is  on  rare  occasions,  and  for  special  purposes,  that  we  regard 
the  mind  as  distinguished  from  the  body. 

The  notion  of  Personality  comprehends  a  grand  total  of  in- 
terests, of  which  the  analysis  is  given  under  the  different  con- 
stituents of  our  mental  being — Sensations,  Emotions,  Volitions, 
and  Ideas.  The  outgoings  of  this  vast  compound  embrace  the 
anthropomorphic  views  of  inanimate  things,  and  control  our 
theories  of  the  inanimate  world.  Such  theories  are  distinct  from 
pure  Psychology,  and  enter  into  the  domains  of  Theology  and 
Ontology.  So,  also,  with  the  part  played  by.Self.consciousness 
in  Ethical  speculation.  Psychological  criticism  has  a  bearing  in 
such  matters,  but  stops  short  of  their  exhaustive  discussion. 

G. — Clnssijicafions  of  the  Intellectual  Po/cers. — p.  343. 

The  Intellectual  powers  were  classified  by  Eeid  as  follows  : — 
External  Seih<es ;  Memonj  .;  Conception,  or  Simple  Apprehension  ; 
Abstraction,  under  which  he  discussed  the  questions  of  Nominalism, 
Eealism,  etc.  ;  Ji:d(pnent,  or  the  theory  of  Common-sense  as  a 
basis  of  truth,  the  distinction  between  Necessity  and  Contingent 
Truth,  etc.  ;  Reasoniny ,  which  coniains  under  it  Demonstration 
and  Probable  Eeasoning  ;  Tade.  He  does  not  specify  Imagina- 
tion, nor  allude  to  it,  except  indirectly  under  Taste. 

DuGALD  Stewakt  added  to  the  foregoing  scheme  Conscious- 
ness, Attention,  Association  of  Ideas,  and  Imagination  ;  and 
omitted  Taste.      His  enumeration  stands  thus  : —  Cunsciovsness  ; 


696  APPENDIX. 

M.rf.°rnal  Perception  ;  Atti^ntion. ;  C(ni(-epti(jii  :  Ahdraction  ;  Associa- 
tion of  I  dnas  ;  Mentor//:  invMjinotion  ;  Reasoning.  Under  the  last- 
named  head,  Eeasonmg,  he  discusses  matters  principally  apper- 
taining to  Logic  ;  the  nature  of  Belief,  Evidence,  Demonstration, 
the  Aristotelian  Syllogism,  and  Induction. 

These  two  schemes  are  liable  to  a  common  objection.  They 
■are  not  an  analysis  of  our  intellectual  operations  ;  they  do  not 
separate  the  intellect  into  its  different  functions,  supposing  it  to 
have  a  plurality  of  functions.  They  are  merely  the  popular 
■designations  for  the  employment  of  the  intellectual  powers  in 
•certain  distinct  departments  of  exertion  ;  as,  for  example,  Imagi- 
nation for  Fine  Art,  Eeasoning  for  Science,  Memory  for  intellectual 
acquisition  generally.  They  further  agree  in  containing  matter 
irrelevant  to  the  science  of  mind. 

Eeid  is  specially  chargeable  with  the  anomaly  of  including 
the  feelings  of  Beauty,  etc.,  in  the  intellect.  The  only  remedy 
for  this  would  have  been  to  adopt  the  threefold  partition  of  the 
mind. 

Stewart  has  committed  the  irregularity  of  placing  an  exercise 
•of  volition  among  the  intellectual  faculties, — namely,  Attention. 
In  introducing  the  Association  of  Ideas,  he  has  fallen  into  the 
error,  pointed  out  by  Samuel  Bailey  {L<dters  ov  the  Philosophy  of  the 
Mind,  First  Series,  p.  72),  of  placing  the  same  subject  on  two 
foundations.  The  Association  of  Ideas,  if  good  for  anything,  is 
•competent  to  supersede  Memory,  Eeason,  Imagination,  etc.,  by 
explaining  all  the  phenomena  that  they  severally  imply.  It  can- 
not, therefore,  be  co-ordinate  with  these  powers. 

Sir  W.  Hamilton  gives  six  Intellectual  Faculties  :  Presentative, 
including  the  Senses,  and  Self-consciousness  as  the  knowledge 
of  mental  phenomena ;  Conservative,  or  Memory ;  Reprodiictive, 
depending  on  the  Laws  of  Association  ;  Elahorative,  or  iVbstrac- 
tion  and  Eeasoning  ;  Representatire,  or  Imagination  ;  and  Recju- 
lative,  which  includes  the  instinctive  sources  of  truth.  The  first 
of  these,  the  Presentative,  recognizes  the  senses  as  the  first  source 
of  our  ideas,  and  is  merely  another  form  of  prefacing  Intellect 
by  Sensation.  The  second  department  of  the  Presentative  relates 
to  the  knowledge  of  mental,  or  subject,  states, — as  sensation  is 
supposed  to  relate  to  object  states.  In  like  manner,  Stewart 
thought  it  necessary  to  specify  the  source  of  our  mental  know- 
ledge, by  giving  '  consciousness '  at  the  head  of  his  enumeration. 


CLASSIFICATIONS    OF    THE    INTELLECTUAL    POWERS,      697 

There  is  a  theoretical  completeness  attained  by  this  plan  ;  but 
the  explanation  in  detail  of  the  nature  of  the  self-conscious,  or 
inti'ospective,  faculty  is  inadequate  in  both  writers.  It  is  a 
matter  of  gi-eat  subtlety.  I  have  endeavoured  to  handle  it,  to  the 
best  of  my  power,  in  a  late  stage  of  the  exposition  of  the  Intellect 
(Contiguity,  p.  467). 

Hamilton's  Oonservafive  Faculty,  viewed  by  itself,  would  be 
another  name  for  Memory  or  Retentiveness.  But,  when  we  take 
this  with  the  third  in  the  list,  the  Bejirodiictive,  including  the  Laws 
of  Association,  a  very  serious  objection  arises.  Of  Conservation, 
apart  from  Reproduction,  we  know  nothing.  That  I  have  a  thing 
in  my  memory,  means  that,  on  a  certain  prompting,  I  can 
reproduce  it,  or  make  it  present.  Conservation  without  reproduc- 
tion would  be  a  nonentity  ;  reproduction  carries  with  it  whatever 
we  mean  by  conservation.  Then,  the  criticism  above  made  with 
reference  to  Stewart's  '  Association  of  Ideas,'  applies  equally 
to  Hamilton.  If  he  makes  Reproduction  a  power  of  the  mind  in 
the  sense  of  Association,  he  might  explain  by  means  of  it  the 
Elaborative,  or  Scientific,  faculty,  and  the  Representative,  or  Ima- 
gination. By  the  Regulative  faculty,  Hamilton  means  what  Reid 
calls  Common-sense,  or  Instinctive  Judgments,  and  what  has 
also  been  called  the  '  Reason,'  in  a  certain  peculiar  acceptation,  in 
which  it  renders  the  Greek  vovs,  and  the  German  Vernuiiff.  It 
is  the  source  of  the  a  priori  principles  of  the  mind ;  and  Hamilton 
discusses  under  it  the  '  Law  of  the  Conditioned,'  which  he  more 
especially  develops  into  a  theory  of  the  instinctive  belief  in  Cause 
and  Effect.  This  law  corresponds,  in  a  great  measure,  to  the 
principle  of  Universal  Relativity, — a  principle  applied,  in  like 
manner,  by  Mr.  Spencer,  to  the  theory  of  causation  [First 
Principles,  p.  241). 

Samuel  Bailey's  classification  of  the  powers  of  the  Intellect  is 
given  above  (A).  He  proposes  a  division  into  four  genera,  with 
species  under  each.  I.  Discemintj,  divided  into  Sense-discern- 
ment, and  discernment  not  through  the  senses.  This  corresponds 
to  Sir  W.  Hamilton's  Presentative  Faculty.  Under  the  second 
kind  of  discernment,  I  presume  he  would  include  introspection, 
or  self-consciousness.  II.  Conceiviwj — that  is,  having  ideas  or 
mental  representations.  There  are  three  species  of  this  power. 
(1)  Conceiving  without  individual  recognition.  (2)  Remember- 
ing, or  conceiving  with  individual  recognition.     (3)  Imagining,  or 


698  APPENDIX. 

conceiving  under  new  combinations.  III.  Belieinng  —  (1)  on 
evidence,  and  (2)  without  evidence.  IV.  Reasoning — of  two 
kinds,  Contingent  and  Demonstrative. 

As  Bailey  has  not  made  this  scheme  tlie  basis  of  a  full 
exposition  of  the  mind,  we  are  not  in  a  position  to  judge  fully  of 
its  merits.  I  should  be  disposed  to  differ  from  him  as  to  the 
placing  of  Belief  among  intellectual  operations,  for  reasons  stated 
elsewhere.  Apart  from  this,  the  classification  is  open  to  the  same 
objection  (if  the  author  would  consider  it  an  objection)  as  all 
the  foregoing  :  there  is  no  analysis  of  the  ultimate  ai:id  distinct 
properties  or  functions  of  the  intellect ;  the  divisions  are  not 
mutually  exclusive.  Imagining  and  Reasoning  are  not  separate 
functions,  but  the  same  functions  and  powers  applied  differently. 
It  seems  to  me  requisite  to  present  such  an  analysis,  in  the  first 
instance,  in  order  to  see  what  our  intellectual  powers  really 
are  ;  and,  then,  to  trace  the  workings  of  these  in  such  popularly 
recognized  operations  as  Memory,  Reasoning,  and  Imagination. 

Herbert  Spencer,  in  his  Es-mi/s  (Second  Series,  p.  139),  has 
indicated  a  classification  to  the  following  effect.  He  speaks  of 
the  Intellect  under  the  name  of  Cognitions,  which  he  defines  as 
the  relations  subsisting  among  our  Feelings,  and  divides  into  four 
sub-classes.  I.  Presentative  Cognitions,  by  which  he  means  the 
localizing  of  sensations  in  the  body, — as  in  knowing,  when  hurt, 
what  is  the  part  affected.  II.  Presentative-representative  Cognitions, 
— by  which  is  meant  the  perception  of  things  in  wholes  from  the 
sensation  of  some  of  their  other  constituents,  as  when  the  sight 
of  an  orange  brings  to  mind  all  its  other  attributes.*  III.  Re- 
presentative Cognitions,  including  all  acts  of  recollection.  IV. 
Re-representative  Cognitions,  including  the  higher  abstractions 
formed  by  the  assistance  of  symbols, — as  in  Mathematics. 

Prof.  Sully  begins  his  treatment  of  Intellect  proper,  having 
disposed  of  Sensation,  by  the  heading  Perception,  in  which  he 
includes  the  aggregation  of  Sensations  throughout  the  whole 
compass  of  the  senses.  He  does  not  fail  to  recognize  this  as  a 
very  large  department  of  our  education.  It  unavoidably  brings 
into  play  the  association  of  Contiguity  on  a  very  great  scale, 
which,  therefore,  it  necessarily  presupposes,  not  merely  in  the 
bare  statement,  but  in  the  conditions  of  its  working. 

*  Others  woiild  call  this  Perception. 


CLASSIFICATIONS  : — SPENCEE  ;    SULLY  ;    HOFFDING.      699 

His  next  heading  is  Eepkoductive  Imagination  (Memory). 
This  is  the  aspect  of  Ideas,  or  Ideation,  that  supiDoses  their  per- 
sistence as  wholly  detached  from  any  present  or  actual  sensation, 
which  is  the  difference  between  Memory  and  Perception.  It  is 
here  that  the  author  adduces  for  the  first  time  the  laws  of 
Contiguity,  Similarity,  and  Contrast.  With  Contiguous  Association 
he  joins  the  statement  of  the  conditions  of  its  efficacious  working. 
He  illustrates  Trains  of  Eepresentations,  Symbolic  Series,  Verbal 
Associations,  Memory  and  Expectation,  and  the  Genesis  of  Re  pre - 
sentation  of  Time.  His  statement  and  elucidation  of  Association  by 
Similaritij  is  very  brief.  Then  comes  Association  hij  Contrast,  fol- 
lowed by  Complex  Association.  The  chapter  concludes  with  a 
discussion  of  Memory  at  large. 

CoxsTKUCTiVE  IMAGINATION  is  the  title  of  another  chapter. 
The  details  are  in  a  great  degree  identical  with  the  section  in  this 
volume  entitled  Constructive  Association. 

Conception  is  the  comprehensive  designation  for  the  growth 
of  Concepts  or  General  Notions,  and  for  everything  that  is  in- 
cluded under  Abstraction. 

Judgment  and  Eeasoning  deals  with  the  Proposition  as  op- 
posed to  the  Notion,  and  discusses  the  nature  of  Eeasoning  induc- 
tive and  deductive. 


According  to  Prof.  Hoffding,  Cognition  falls  under  four 
heads  : — Seiisation,  Ideation,  Ai^prehension  of  Time  and  Space,  Appre- 
hension of  Things  as  Real.  Sensation  deals  with  certain  general 
laws  of  Sensation  as  a  whole — such  as  Simplicity,  Self-dependence, 
Quality,  Eelativity.  These  generalities  are  illustrated  upon  the 
Senses  commonly  so  called,  as  exclusive  of  Movement.  An  addi- 
tional section  discusses  Motor  Sensations,  and  there  is  finally  a 
comparison  of  Sensation  and  Movement.  The  sensations  in 
detail  are  not  given  in  a  full  enumeration,  but  quoted  as  elucidat- 
ing the  general  facts  already  mentioned. 

Intellect  proper,  as  contrasted  with  Sensation,  is  given  under 
the  name  Ideation.  The  first  step  is  to  suppose  sensations 
repeating  themselves.  This  repetition  brings  up  new  facts  and 
processes,  connected  with  which  the  author  introduces  the  name 
Perception,  which  he  views  in  the  liberal  interpretation  given  to 
it  by  other  psychologists.  Eising  from  percepts  to  ideas  or  '  free 
representations,'  he  discusses  the  preservation  of  mental  impres- 
sions, going  through  the  stages  of  Memory  Images  to  reproducible 


700  APPENDIX. 

products.  He  theu  discusses  the  conditions  of  remembrance,  as 
determined,  first  by  the  circumstances  of  the  actual  experience, 
next  by  the  circumstances  of  the  reproduction,  ai:id  lastly  by  the 
character  of  the  ideas.  From  this  he  is  led  to  the  laws  of  Asso- 
ciation, General  Ideas,  and  the  connexion  of  Language  with  ideas, 
the  association  of  ideas  in  Thought,  and  ideas  of  the  concrete  or 
Imagination. 

A  separate  chapter  discusses  Time  and  Space,  and  deals  with 
the  usual  problems  connected  with  these  notions.  This  is  followed 
by  the  nature  of  Real  it  ij,  with  the  Causal  Eelation. 

The  points  to  consider  in  regard  to  the  foregoing  scheme  are — 
whether  all  the  important  faculties,  or  modes  of  cognition,  are 
brought  into  fair  and  proportionate  discussion,  and  whether  the 
laws  and  processes  are  introduced  in  such  manner  and  place  as  to 
be  elucidated  to  advantage.  The  processes  of  Ideation,  viewed  as 
retention  of  primary  impressions,  are  in  the  first  instance  entirely 
detached  from  the  fact  of  conjoined  impressions.  It  seems  to  be 
supposed  that  the  starting-point  of  retention  is  the  survival  and 
reproduction  of  simple  elements,  without  reference  to  the  means 
or  conditions  of  recalling  them  from  absence  or  temporary  oblivion. 
Of  course,  the  fact  of  persistence  after  the  original  has  disappeared, 
the  capability  of  subsisting  as  a  mere  idea,  and  the  measure  of 
the  force  or  vividness  of  the  image, — are  all  capable  of  being  con- 
sidered and  stated  without  asking  by  what  handle  they  are 
brought  into  consciousness  from  the  past.  Still,  if  the  matter  is 
discussed  so,  the  discussion  should  be  thorough  ;  no  important 
condition  should  be  omitted.  Moreover,  it  is  difficult  to  exclude 
the  circumstance  of  the  composite  nature  of  Sensation ;  whence 
the  fact  of  retention  inevitably  assumes  the  aspect  of  cohesiveness 
of  parts — another  mode  of  giving  the  law  of  Contiguous  Associa- 
tion. It  has  always  been  apparent  that  the  adhesive  force  is  one 
and  the  same  power  for  couples,  triples,  etc.,  and  for  the  aggre- 
gate of  points  in  a  simple  sensation.  Hence,  the  statement  of  the 
law  almost  necessarily  precedes  the  discussion  of  Ideation  in  its 
most  elementary  items.  The  law  of  Similarity  is  invoked  at 
once,  in  beginning  the  intellectual  problem  with  the  repetition  of 
sensations. 

Dr.  James  Ward.  The  department  of  Sensation  is  treated  by 
Dr.  Ward  in  the  same  general  fashion  as  that  given  in  Hoffdiug. 
His  heading  is  Tlieonj  of  Presentations.     His  generalities  resolve 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    JAMES   WARD.  701 

themselves  into  the  process  of  Differentiation  from  a  Continuum — 
which  is  another  mode  of  describing  the  intellectual  property  of 
Discrimination, — Retentiveness  as  necessary  to  persistence  of 
presentations,  the  passing  out  of  consciousness  into  a  margin  of  the 
Sub-conscious,  the  Law  of  Relativity,  the  difference  between  Sen- 
sory and  Motor  presentations.  The  details  of  the  different  classes 
of  Sensation  are  omitted.  The  treatment  has  much  in  common 
with  Hoffding's  discussion  of  the  department  of  Sensation.  Hence, 
before  entering  upon  the  Intellecr.ual  Powers,  in  the  more  restricted 
sense,  he  has  already  announced  his  view  of  the  two  great  funda- 
mental facts — Discrimination  and  Retentiveness. 

Dr.  Ward  opens  his  treatment  of  Intellect  with  the  heading 
Perception,  which,  with  him,  includes  many  important  topics  ;  the 
distinction  between  Perception  and  Ideation  being  preserved.  It 
is  here  that  he  introduces  the  process  of  Similarity,  as  Recogni- 
tion. He  also  treats  of  Localization  of  impressions  as  a  prelude 
to  a  knowledge  of  Space.  Actuality  or  Reality  is  also  explained 
by  the  help  of  our  motor  presentations,  by  the  consideration  of 
Time  relations  or  Temporal  continuity,  and  Substantiality.  So 
much  for  Perception. 

What  remains  of  Intellect  proper  is  given  under  the  general 
heading  Imagination  or  Ideation,  reserving  for  a  later  stage,  under 
the  heading  Intellection,  the  more  recondite  products  of  intel- 
ligence. Passing  from  the  mere  perception,  which  has  always  one 
foot  in  the  iVctual,  the  rise  of  the  Idea  proper  has  to  be  considered 
in  its  various  circumstances.  An  intermediate  stage  is  afforded 
in  the  '  memory-image '  along  with  which  the  author  discusses  the 
memory-continuum.  Then  follows  his  view  of  the  laws  of  Mental 
Association.  Under  the  same  head,  he  considers  the  problem  of 
Memory  as  contrasted  with  a  mere  idea  or  imagination.  From 
Memory,  as  involving  a  form  of  belief,  he  proceeds  to  Expectation, 
which  he  also  regards  as  a  fact  of  intelligence.  He  is  led  from 
this  topic  to  Succession  and  Duration, — that  is,  Time.  Here,  he 
suspends  the  discussion  of  Intellect  to  treat  of  Feeling  and  Will. 

The  heading  Intellection  comprises  the  remainder  of  the  intel- 
lectual topics.  The  power  of  Language  is  taken  account  of,  as  a 
pi-elude  to  Abstraction  and  Thought.  The  author  now  finds  room 
for  the  formal  categories  termed  Unity,  Difference,  Identity,  and 
Likeness.  To  these  follow  the  real  categories  Causality  and 
Objectivity.  Last  of  all  is  the  Presentation  of  Self,  Self-con- 
sciousness, and  Conduct. 


702 


Supplementanj  Note  on  the  Expression  of  the  Laws 

of  Association. 

In  a  recent  number  of  Mind,  Dr.  Ward  has  critically  examined 
the  modes  of  expressing  the  fundamental  laws  of  Association,  and 
takes  exception  at  various  points  to  the  phraseology  of  their  exposi- 
tion in  the  present  work.  He  has  not,  at  the  date  of  writing  this 
note,  completed  his  intended  examination  of  the  whole  subject,  so 
that  I  can  gather  only  in  part  the  gist  of  his  proposed  amend- 
ments. I  should  have  been  glad  to  be  put  in  possession  of  an 
improved  form  of  language  for  expressing  a  matter  so  subtle  as 
the  relation  of  Contiguity  to  Similarity,  not  to  mention  the  other 
minutiae  in  the  statement  of  the  processes  taken  separately.  I 
should  be  still  more  glad  to  know  whether  he  can  suggest  any 
formulae  that  would  constitute  a  better  heading  to  the  workings 
of  Association,  as  these  are  exhibited  in  the  extended  and  de- 
tailed analysis  propounded  in  this  volume.  As  no  one  form  of 
phraseology  can  be  expected  to  be  perfect,  for  generalities  so  wide 
and  complications  so  great,  I  conceive  that  our  very  best  attempts 
will  fall  short  at  some  point,  and  will  need  to  be  guarded  by 
precautions  against  tendencies  to  error.  Still,  I  should  like  to  see 
the  results  of  Dr.  Ward's  subtlety  of  mind,  after  his  protracted 
study  of  the  whole  question.  In  the  meantime,  I  will  make  a 
remark  upon  some  points  that  I  find  in  his  recent  article.  He 
seems  to  dwell  on  the  difficulty  of  reconciling  plurality,  in  the 
fused  presentations,  with  unity  in  the  fused  collection.  That  the 
distinct  presentations  are  numerically  separate  is,  of  course,  the 
fact.  That  there  is  no  such  thing  as  absolute  identity  between 
any  present  and  any  past  impression  is  a  truism  ;  there  must  be  a 
difference  in  time,  if  not  also  in  space,  however  identical  the  two 
may  be  in  quality.  Such  differences  must  be  reckoned  with,  when 
the  occasion  requires  it :  when  the  occasion  does  not  require  it, 
they  need  not  be  adduced  ;  while,  although  not  adduced,  they  are 
not  denied. 

As  to  the  fitness  of  the  word  '  Assimilation  '  to  signify  what 


703  SUPPLEMENTARY   NOTE. 

happens  either  when  identical  impressions  are  cumulated  in  one 
stamp,  or  when  things  similar  and  yet  diverse  come  together  in 
a  general  notion,  I  consider  that  it  is  somewhat  misleading  and 
inaccurate,  while  there  is  a  difficulty  in  finding  a  better.  The  term 
'  merging '  comes  perhaps  nearer ;  but,  after  all,  our  remedy  lies 
in  providing  concrete  representative  instances.  Dr.  Ward's 
digestive  biscuits,  daily  partaken  of,  would  seem  to  me  more 
valuable  than  his  abstract  formulae. 

Instead  of  following  him  point  by  point  in  his  criticism  of 
my  phraseology — which  would  be  somewhat  tedious,  not  to  say 
confusing — I  prefer  to  wait  the  final  result  of  his  lucubrations 
in  purifying  the  received  statements  of  these  vast  and  compre- 
hensive notions ;  believing  that,  when  I  have  only  one  form  to 
adjudicate  upon,  I  shall  be  in  a  position  either  to  adopt  or  to 
decline,  and  to  give  my  reasons  accordingly. 


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